


The Red Moon Rises

by Alkeni



Series: The Prophecies Cycle [1]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-11 19:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 70,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alkeni/pseuds/Alkeni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Medieval AU. 600 years ago, the Daughters of Sineya sealed away a powerful master vampire. Now as a red moon rises in the sky, events will bring together a confluence of heroes to prevent his return. A collection of Slayers, Witches, former Watchers and normal human beings of no powers are all that stands between the world, and its impending doom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Astrological Signs

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Buffyverse. It belongs to Joss Whedon

**Author's Note:** This is a Medieval-AU of the Buffyverse. That said, I fully intend to keep the characters and premises in mostly similar niches, and of course with the same, as much as possible, personalities.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

_When the moon hangs red in the sky_  
 _And the birds that once dwelled in the air no longer fly_  
 _He who was sealed away so long, shall once more awaken._  
 _And his fractured followers, no longer shall be they be fallen_  
 _First they shall make the blood of Sineya's Brood flow like wine_  
 _And thus the Brood of Aurelius shall cleanse the Earth of the kine._  
-The Fifth Prophecy of the Dark Oracle

Chapter 1: Astrological Signs

**24 to 30 Days until the Red Moon**

Wesley murmured the words necessary to momentarily disable the magical wards he'd paid to have put on his door. It had been expensive, but well worth the cost. He opened the door and stepped into his house. It wasn't a large structure – just a large main room dominated by bookshelves and a weapon's rack, and a small bedroom through a door on the far end. But it was large enough to suit his needs, and besides, he didn't spend much time here anyway. Few days a month at most. He closed the door behind him and spoke the set set of words that were keyed to his wards. These ones brought the wards back up.

There were a great many customs and practices of the Watchers that he had abandoned when he left the organization, and in the three years since, but one of the few that he hadn't abandoned was a sense of professional paranoia. When you fought vampires, demons and other associated forces of darkness on a regular basis – and especially if it was how you made your living – you couldn't be too careful.

Wesley took off his coat and draped it across the back of a chair. The room was dim – the windows were shuttered, and no candles or lamps were lit. Understandably, since he'd been gone for the last week and a half tracking down and then eliminating a nest of Hassack Demons out in the Kayden hills, some forty miles west. To remedy that, the demon hunter unshuttered two windows. Although he didn't take his sword – sheathed as it was in its scabbard – off, he did remove the throwing knives from his sleeves and the top of his left boot, putting them on the weapons rack that dominated one wall of the room once he had taken them out.

The question was, now what to do? He should probably stop by Rupert Giles's tower before the end of the day. They'd spoken before he'd left to deal with the Hassacks, and the older former Watcher had mentioned that he was researching something that might be fairly momentous, but that he needed 'more time'. Giles had asked for him to stop by once he'd gotten back from his hunt.

But first, Wesley decided he needed a drink. He made a point to not drink when he went out on a mission, but then, he wasn't on one now. It wouldn't do to show up at Giles's drunk – and he had no intention of doing so.

About a quarter of a small bottle of viscous bottom-shelf liquor later, Wesley was ready. He grabbed his coat and his knives again, and stepped out of the house.

As he did so, Wesley wrinkled his nose, reminded of another reason he preferred not to spend much time in this city, or his home in it. Cities and Towns in the Kingdom of Arenso stank. In all actuality, they fairly reeked, for unlike the cities and towns of the Britillian Archipelago, his homeland, there were no sewage systems, which made the stench unbearable at times, especially in summer months like these. He supposed it was possible to get used to it, if you spent enough time in the city, but Wesley preferred not to take the time to do that.

Thinking of his homeland made him think back to the circumstances that had led to him first meeting Rupert Giles. He'd been eight years old and just entering the Watcher's Academy when Rupert Giles – a Watcher in good standing from an old and respected family, even if he had a reputation for being a bit unorthodox – had had his famous – or infamous, perhaps – split with the Watcher's Council, the leaders of the Watchers of Britillia. Giles had disagreed profoundly with the Watcher's practices, traditions and policies, and was not afraid to step on the toes of everyone on the Council in an effort to open the Council's eyes to fundamental problems and inconsistencies.

To start with, and first and foremost, Giles had disagreed with the underlying elitism of the Watchers. Their membership was made up exclusively from old, established Watcher Dynasties, and members of the nobility in the Archipelago. That left them, Giles argued, with a skewed worldview, a limited pool to draw truly talented recruits from, and more importantly, led to the entanglement of the Watchers into the political and economic life of the Britillian Archipelago. In fact, as it stood, the Watchers were, in all but name, the governing body of the Archipelago, and that led to distraction from the mandate the Watchers had to combat the various, myriad supernatural evils of the world. And that entanglement also led to corruption, and divided the Council and the Watchers as a whole into factions based on political and economic power blocs, which in turn led to administrative paralysis that undermined the Watchers and prevented them from carrying out their mission to the best of their ability.

Furthermore, Giles had opposed the Watchers' long held position on the Daughters of Sineya, or as they were more colloquially known, Slayers. Denying the party line that Slayers were 'brutish inelegant thugs', Giles argued that denying Slayers from access to the Britillian Archipelago and thus the ability to fight supernatural evils there as well was simply a desire of the Council to retain a monopoly on the combat of the supernatural, for fear of losing their stranglehold on power. This, he argued, was negligence of the highest order, and led to the deaths of innocent humans across the islands.

Finally, and of particular importance to Wesley's future, he had pointed an accusatory finger at Quentin Travers, then a new up and coming and influential member of the Council from a family even older and more respected than the Giles Family or the Wyndam-Pryce Family. Rupert Giles had laid a laundry list of charges at Travers' feet, ranging from small things like simple corruption and dereliction of duty, but moving right up through theft, murder, murder of a Watcher, and most importantly, treason against the Council.

Rather than act on or investigate any of Giles' criticisms and charges, the Council had voted by a nearly unanimous margin to expel him, though Travers' motion to have him executed had been defeated handily as well.

At the time, of course, Wesley didn't have any idea that that was what had happened. Rather, he mused as he continued to make his way to the tower that Giles called home, all he'd known was that the heir to the Giles family had been expelled from the Watchers and banished from the Britillian Archipelago for 'disgracing the name of Watcher', to quote his father, one of the men who had voted for the expulsion of Rupert Giles, though not the execution.

Fast forward fifteen years. Wesley had graduated the Academy and was now a Watcher in good standing himself, with a string of successes in the field. Quentin Travers was now the Head of the Council, and Wesley was one of Travers' favorites among the younger generation. Travers' position had been quite secure, but the man had never been one to leave well enough alone, and there was one person in all the world that Travers' loathed and wanted dead more than just about anything. Rupert Giles.

Exile wasn't enough, and as long as his old accuser still lived, apparently Quentin Travers wasn't able to sleep at night. Or more likely, had a guilty conscience and wanted the one man who seemed to know what he'd been up to dead. Wesley still, at the time, wasn't aware of all the details, but, being a dedicated and thorough man, he had gone to the archives and examined the records of the Council's meetings and the expulsion of Rupert Giles, in an effort to get inside the mind of the man he'd been ordered to kill. What he'd found there – the charges, serious ones – made him think. Why, if Travers' was innocent, would be want Giles dead? He hadn't combined yet, but doubts had formed, combining with more general concerns about corruption and the other minor ills that seemed to be afflicting the Watchers.

He left that train of thought behind as he saw Giles' tower just ahead. From what he gathered, when Giles had arrived here in this city after his exile eighteen years ago, he'd bought the tower from the grandchildren of an local wizard of middling talent who had died a few months before his arrival.

Approaching the heavy oak door, Wesley knocked on it lightly three times. For a few moments there was no response or indication that he'd been heard, but then there were footsteps approaching the door from the other side, and a few moments after that the door swung open, revealing Giles on the other end.

“Oh, Wesley.” Giles stepped aside to allow him not to enter. Despite the sun shining in the sky, he didn't actually invite Wesley to enter. While not quite as paranoid as Wesley, Giles was more cautious than perhaps necessary. Though people like them had a radically different definition of 'necessary caution' than the average person. “How did the hunt of the Hassacks go?” Giles asked once Wesley was inside, closing the door behind his fellow Britillian. He noted the older man had a concerned and distracted expression on his face, and was cleaning his spectacles, a nervous habit of his.

“As well as can be expected. They're all dead, and fortunately I didn't get seriously injured this time. A few scratches,” He pulled up his sleeve to reveal the scratches, which were well on their way to healing after a week since they'd happened, “but nothing to write home about. You said you wanted to speak to me when I returned, didn't you?”

“Yes, I did. We should go up to the library, so I can show you the proof. If I'm right, then we are all in grave danger.” Giles put his spectacles back on.

“Define grave.” Wesley said, as he followed Giles up.

“Apocalypse level, I believe. Rivers of blood, hell on earth. Quite charmless, from the sound of it.”

“That sounds pleasant.” The library was lined entirely with shelves, crammed with old tomes, piles of parchment, ancient tablets, scrolls of parchment and a variety of other odds and ends, all with some fort of writing on them. Watchers, even ex-Watchers, were often pack-rats when it came to the written word. The only reason Wesley's home didn't resemble Giles' library is that the younger man gave most texts – especially the rare or powerful ones – to Giles for safekeeping.

Giles carefully dug through the piles of books, scrolls and parchments on the central table, looking for one in particular. As he looked, he started to speak. “Are you familiar with the vampire cult known as the Order of Aurelius?”

“The name sounds familiar, but I can't recall anything specific about it.”

“Not surprising. They've not done much to distinguish themselves from run of the mill vampires in the last six centuries or so.” Giles replied. He finally seemed to find what he was looking for and pulled a small, thin tome out from the stacks and piles on the table. “According to my research, it was a cult devoted to the Old Ones founded some nine hundred years ago by a vampire prophet named Aurelius. During his lifetime it was fairly small, but after his death at the hands of a Slayer, leadership of his cult fell to his childe, one Vigeous.”

There was a name he recognized. “The _Saint_ Vigeous?”

“The very same.” Giles replied. “After ravaging points east, they entered up here, in Arenso. Vigeous's crusade was fortunately cut short before he could do much damage in their new locale by a internal power struggle, but about fifty years later another vampire, calling himself 'The Master', and claiming to be the eldest childe of Aurelius. He turned much of the eastern reaches of Arenso into a charnel house, and there are mentions of him attempting to open, or access something referred to in _Ariscan's Commentaries_ as 'the maw of fire' – though I think my translation may be off – in an attempt to bring some or all of the Old Ones back. The Daughters of Sineya who had been gathering their forces and at least keeping the Aurelians at bay during this time, finally launched an all-out assault on this 'Master' at his main fortress, and while most of his inner circle was defeated, no matter how hard they tried...apparently they couldn't kill him. No matter how many times they staked him, or even set him on fire...he wasn't foolish enough to get in the sunlight, so eventually a coven aligned with the Slayers used a powerful ritual to seal him away in a pocket dimension or some sort. The surviving Aurelian vampires broke up into completing factions have been fighting eachother as much as anyone else in the six hundred odd years since.”

“How does all this translate into impending apocalypse? It sounds as if this Order of Aurelius is no longer much of a threat, and as long as this Master is safely sealed-” Giles handed him the thin volume. “The Prophecies of the Dark Oracle?”

Giles nodded, “Specifically the fifth one.”

Wesley carefully opened the book and paged through it to the fifth prophecy. He read it carefully, then looked up. “I'll give you that it certain seems to be talking about this 'Master', but the moon hasn't risen red, and we have no reason to believe that it will any time soon. So you must have more to go on, or you wouldn't be so concerned.”

“Actually, we have every reason to believe that the moon will rise red within a month.” Giles replied. He went over to a shelf and traced his finger along the spines of the books there until he found the one he was looking for. He pulled it off the shelf and thumbed through it. Wesley caught a glimpse the title – _Tharingal's Astrology_. “I was reading this when I started down this path of research. Here,” he found the passage he was looking for and handed the book to Wesley, who closed the book on the Prophecies of the Dark Oracle and set it aside to accept the new book. “In that passage, Tharingal describes an astrological phenomenon known as the 'Red Moon', which happens once every six-hundred seventy three years. He provided the dates for last two known previous events, and includes his calculations for the next one. This is the right year, and if his calculations are correct, we have twenty seven days until a the Red Moon rises. I knew I'd heard reference to a 'Red Moon' in a prophecy somewhere, and that brought me to the Dark Oracle, and then the Order of Aurelius and this 'Master' character.” Wesley set down the book, the same concerned and distracted expression on his face that Giles had had the entire time since Wesley had walked in.

“I've consulted other sources, and they're universal in their agreement about this 'Red Moon', and its imminency. There is some slight variation in the calculations about the exact date, though the widest differences amount to three days one way or the other, and as far as I can tell...The Master is going to return soon if nothing is done to prevent it, or if its possible to reseal him or perhaps actually kill him this time, there might be a way to prevent apocalypse even if he returns.”

“You have informed the Daughters of Sineya?” Though they utilized and believed in prophecy as much as anyone else, and even had some seers, the Daughters would never think to consult or have copies on hand of the Prophecies of the Dark Oracle – the Daughters had been the ones to finally kill the Dark Oracle three hundred seventeen years ago. Which he'd of course predicted, in his 23rd Prophecy.

“I've sent a messenger to them with all this information. With luck they will still know the binding spell used in the first place, and how it might be reapplied, or refined to work again. But in the meantime, there is still more information to be gathered. I can't find any details about how his release, his awakening will actually happen. Will it simply be a natural result of the Red Moon? Will the Red Moon itself possess the necessary qualities to free him? Is there a ritual involved, that the Order of Aurelius must perform? We simply do not have enough information.”

“But you have a solution.” Wesley could tell from the man's expression that he was working up to something.

“I do. In my research of the Order of Aurelius, I've come across the name of a particular tome repeatedly – the Pergamum Codex. From what I can tell, it is essentially the holy book of the Aurelians. Including all the prophecies made by Aurelius. At the very least it might be able to give us some idea of what The Master has planned for once he gets released, if it comes to that.”

“And where do you expect to locate one?”

“That's where you come in. I believe I have located one of the myriad splinter factions of the Order. From what I can gather – as I said, the Order has done little that is particularly noteworthy since the Master was sealed away – there are two major factions led by two children of the Master, a 'Darla' and a 'Luke'. The two of them tend to keep only a small collection of vampires around them as they move around to avoid drawing the attention of the Slayers, but they hold the allegiance of the various smaller and most of the more sedentary groups between them. There's an old castle some fifty miles north, just off the Old Trade Way, I believe that there are vampires living there, and that more importantly, they're vampires of the Aurelian persuasion. They would have a copy of the Pergamum Codex.”

“You want me to go and get it?” Wesley wasn't that concerned with the possibility, he just wanted to confirm that that was indeed what Giles had in mind.

“I do.”

“How many vampires are we talking, do you think?”

“Honestly? I don't know. I doubt more then ten.”

“Do you mind if I bring Gunn and Fred in to help?”

“Go ahead. An imminent apocalypse effects them as well.” Giles replied.

Wesley nodded. “Well, then if there isn't anything else, I'll take my leave.”

“Nothing else at the moment. But be careful Wesley.”

“I will.” Wesley went down the stairs and out of the tower. After a few moments thought, he decided to go see Fred and Gunn first. The inventor and alchemist Winifred and her husband Charles Gunn were both good friends and had been of great help in fighting the supernatural evils. Fred's inventions and overall ingenuity had been as helpful as Gunn's dedication and skill in battle in the fight.

It didn't take him long to enter Fred's shop. She sold a variety of mechanical devices and mechanical odds and ends. They didn't fly off the shelves, but they were also expensive enough that she didn't need to sell large numbers of them to make a decent living. He'd long since given up trying to figure out how the contraptions worked or what they did just by looking at them.

Fred looked up from the broadsheet was she was reading when she heard someone enter. Her expression brightened and she smiled. “Wes!” She got up from her chair. “You're back! You got the demons?”

Wesley nodded, smiling despite the grave news he'd just heard. There was something about Fred that just brightened your day. “They're dead.” Then he sighed. “Actually, there's something a great deal more important than simple Hassack demons coming.” He told her in a low tone. “Is Gunn here?”

“Yea. He's in the back. What's wrong.”

“Its best if we talk about it away from the possibility of being overhead, and I'd rather just say it the once.”

Fred nodded, then “Oh! Wait! Before we go in the back, there's something I need to show you.” Before Wesley could say anything, she hurried over to one of the cabinets lining the back wall of the room and opened it. From it she removed some kind of metal wrist-guard, then slid it over her right arm, approaching him. “Stand back.” Wesley obeyed immediately – he'd long since learned to do that when Fred demonstrated her inventions simply as a matter of course. Fred flicked her wrist and part of the wrist-guard detached and then slid out, segments locking together and becoming...a sword. “I call it a collapsible sword.” She took another one out of the cabinet. “Gunn prefers his axe – I'm still working on how to do that, but I made another one for you. See, you can adjust the width of the wrist-guard here-” She was starting to babble.

“Fred.” Wesley interrupted. “Breathe.” Then he chuckled, as she stopped. “That...that is quite impressive. I'm quite grateful. But I really do need to talk to you and Gunn.” He took the proffered device.

“Right.” He followed Fred into the back, to the rooms where she and Gunn lived, behind the shop. Gunn looked up from the chess board he'd been apparently playing against himself with. Wesley smirked. He and Gunn played chess together often, and a slight majority of the games went to him, while that didn't lead to any particular animosity between them, Gunn, like any other person, really didn't like to lose.

“Hey Wes.”

“Hello.”

“Something serious?”

“Very. If Giles is right, we may have an impending apocalypse on our hands.” He detailed to them what Giles had told him. “He needs this Pergamum Codex if we're to make forward progress on how to stop the Master from rising or fulfilling is plans, whatever they are.”

“Damn. You Britillians know how to do serious, don't you.” He chuckled. “You know I'm always for killing some vampires.” He looked at his wife. “Fred?”

The alchemist-inventor didn't need much time to decide. “I'm in. Great chance to field-test the collapsible sword as well.”

“Excellent.” Wesley said. “I suggest we leave at first light tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me.” Gunn said, with Fred nodding along with him.


	2. Vampiric Stirrings

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series

**Author's Note:** If at any point you feel that I am not accurately presenting a character's personality, feel free to say so, and give pointers on where you think I can improve that presentation (though I'd also ask you to give explanations as to why you think the character, based on their canon actions, is one way or the other). Thank you.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises 

By Alkeni 

Chapter 2: Vampiric Stirrings 

**24 to 30 Days until the Red Moon**

_Chase Castle,_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

There was little more boring in the world, Alexander – or Xander to his friends – Harris than standing guard in Lord David Chase's throne room while he held court.

Xander was standing just inside the doors of the throne room, wearing chainmail armor on his torso and a sword at his belt. Both standard issue for a member of the House Chase Guard, the small military force Lord Chase was allowed to have under Royal Law. Numbering only about seventy men, it was enough to meet the needs of the Lordship of Sunnydale. The Lordship was far from any border, and like the rest of the Barony of Olvikun, was pretty much entirely free from banditry and the like. Not entirely, but nothing on any large scale.

That left only a few things for the House Chase Guard to do – serve as muscle for the various Constables and Sheriffs that maintained law and order - and collected taxes – guard the members of the Chase Family when they left the castle, guard the castle. Fairly standard. If the Kingdom ever went to war and the King went to Baron Wilkins for soldiers, than Lord Chase, as Lord of Sunnydale and one of Baron Wilkins' vassals, would need to give some of his soldiers over to Royal Service for the duration.

Xander wasn't particularly enthused about his job – or the slim possibility that he might get called up for Royal Service to fight a war – not that he was a coward, or pacifist, but he suspected any war would only help the nobility. Which he was not a fan of. He didn't serve in the House Chase Guard out of particular loyalty to the Chase family – he didn't like them much to be honest. He was here because the job paid well enough, he could do it well, and because he didn't exactly have many options open to him, given that his parents were the town drunks, and people had an expectation of the same from him. But, well, he could do this.

“...Baron Wilkins has raised taxes across the Barony for the duration of his road-improvement project.” One of Lord Chase's advisors was saying. “We can easily absorb the loss – its not much. It'll just have to come out of the profits from one of the investments. I suggest the Falcon Trading Company – you're making enough from it that the profits we reinvest-” Xander didn't hear the rest as he just tuned the whole thing out. If Lord Chase needed him or the other guard standing across the door from him to take someone out of the room or anything like that, he'd call them out specifically.

This continued for what was at least an hour until a particular word caught Xander. 'Vampire'

Immediately he started to listen more intently. Vampires weren't just something that came up in casual conversation.

“The Constable of Bronzeton has reported two deaths that are almost certainly, beyond a doubt, the work of vampires.” Another adviser was reading from a report from Bronzeton, one of the outlying villages. “They were drained entirely of blood, two small holes on their necks. The bodies were were staked already as a precaution, according to his report, which he sent upon discovering the bodies early this morning. Until we get another one, we won't know if they were going to become vampires, or if they were just food. The Constable has ordered a curfew made sure everyone knows not to invite people in, but he doesn't have the capability to defeat the vampire.”

“Dispatch a messenger to the Temple of Sineya in the Agaden Forest.” David Chase said. Each regional base for the Daughters of Sineya, the Slayers, was called a Temple of Sineya.

“But that will take three days before the messenger even reaches the Temple, and another six before any Slayers could arrive! What are we to do in the meantime!?” Another adviser cut in somewhat frantically.

Lord Chase pondered for a moment, his expression cool, calm and controlled. _It's easy for him to be detached._ Xander thought sourly. _Its not his neck or the neck of one of his loved ones on the menu._ “Dispatch twenty of the Guard to Bronzeton. Have them bring holy water from the reserves, and distribute it among the people. They're to patrol the village in groups of five at night, all with torches. Hopefully we can keep more people from dying until a Slayer shows up to eliminate it, or perhaps it will simply move on, and the Slayer can track it from there.” He paused, then looked over at Xander. “Guard!”

“Yes, Lord?” Xander said, keeping the necessary level of respect he didn't feel in his voice.

“Find the Witch Madison and bring her here. I wish to speak to her.”

“Of course, Lord.” _Something that at least involves moving. Thank the gods._ He opened the large double doors and left the throne room. He'd check for Amy Madison in her rooms first, then...well, there were only a few places she'd be.

Few nobles of David Chase's low rank had the kind of money it took to hire a witch of Amy Madison's caliber on retainer, but Lord David Chase was rather unique. His family had always been heavily involved in trade, and indeed, they'd only been nobility for the last four generations – not that anyone brought that up where any of the Chases could hear it – after they purchased the title to the area and built the castle and down. No one was exactly sure _why_ the area had been mostly abandoned for just under the previous 500 years before 'House Chase' moved in. Xander certainly didn't have a clue, but then, that wasn't his area.

It took him only a few minutes to go from the throne room on the ground floor up to the third floor of the East Wing of the castle, where Amy Madison had taken up residence. To be entirely honest, the witch scared him. Not much – it wasn't as if she'd done much of anything to warrant fear – but just a little. It wasn't because she could use magic. He had no problem with witches. One of his best childhood friends had, it had turned out, magical ability, and had left Sunnydale when she was ten years old to develop her magical abilities, to learn how to control them, under the tutelage of the elders of the Devon Coven – which was, coincidentally, closely aligned with the Temple of Sineya in the Agaden Forest. They still exchanged the occasional letter, though it usually amounted them each sending and receiving a letter about twice a year. But he still counted Willow Rosenberg as his friend, so that Amy Madison was a witch was not why she scared him.

In fact, his letter exchange with Willow, was, in part, the reason why he was afraid of Amy. A few years ago, Willow had mentioned the other witch in passing in a letter. Apparently, Amy had also been a trainee with the Devon Coven but had left it because her magic was “too selfish”, and the elders had been afraid she'd turn dark, and Amy had refused to accept their rulings against her. Xander hadn't told Willow that Amy had, over the last two years, taken up employment with Lord Chase, though probably by this point she – or at least the Devon Coven – had heard about it.

The other reason was that she was...intense. She was amazing focused, and when he saw her, he wasn't sure that, if he accidentally pissed her off, she wouldn't turn him into a frog or something like that.

He stepped off the stairs and into the hallway that led off into Amy's room. As he passed another room – which had an open door – he heard an all too familiar voice coming out of it.

“What are you, deficient?” Lady Cordelia Chase – or 'Her Royal Bitchiness' as Xander referred to in his mind, since she certainly acted like a princess – berated some hapless, unfortunate servant. “I specifically told you how I wanted them arranged, and you completely screwed it all up. Are you so stupid and incompetent as to be unable to get even the most simple tasks – that I spelled out for you small, simple words – done right?”

“My Lady-” The maid started, in an attempt to defend herself, but Lady Chase would have none of it and cut her off before she could say anymore.

“I don't want to hear it.” She said firmly. “Not a single word. You're no longer employed here! Get out of the castle by the end of the night, or I'll see to it that the guards throw you out!” The maid immediately burst into tears – probably this was the job she could get.

Xander took the 'exchange' as his cue to keep going. He really wanted no part whatsoever in dragging that maid out. He rarely wanted anything to do with Cordelia ruining the lives of otherwise innocent servants whose only crimes were not meeting Cordelia's exacting and often impossibly perfectionist standards. And usually it was only small mistake anyway.

He continued on and soon enough reached the rooms that Amy Madison had been given. Xander knocked lightly.

“What?!” Amy demanded, wrenching the door open violently. She wore a simple black dress, which made the steaks of black in her otherwise brown hair. “What do you want, Harris.” He was a bit surprised she knew, his name, but shrugged mentally.

“Lord Chase sent me to bring you to the throne room.” Xander told her.

“And what does his _magnificent_ Lordship want with me now?” She asked, annoyed.

“I don't know.” Xander said, rolling his eyes. “But I'd say it has something to do with the fact that there has been evidence of Vampire activity in Bronzeton recently.”

“Vampires?!” There. Amy got that intense, almost possessed look in her eyes again. “Alright, let's go.” She said impatiently. Xander shrugged mentally at her about face, but said nothing. They went down the hall, passing a tearful maid. Amy looked at him. “Hurricane Cordelia strikes again?”

Xander nodded. “Looks like it. I heard her laying into the poor girl on my way to get you.”

“At least I don't have to deal with her at all. No amount of money would be worth that.” Amy said frankly, and Xander chuckled.

When they got to the Throne Room, Xander fell back into his position by the door, as Amy approached Lord Chase. She bowed. “Greetings Lord Chase.” She said formally, and the stiffness and faintest hint of disrespect was noticeable in her voice. But then again, she wasn't being paid to be polite. “I understand that you wished to speak with me?”

“I do.” He replied. “There are reports of Vampire activity in the village of Bronzeton. I am concerned about this spreading, about the vampire responsible coming to Sunnydale Town. I want you to make this castle proofed against entrance by vampires.”

“I am afraid that is not possible, my Lord.” Amy said, but held up a hand to indicate she wasn't done. “There simply is no magical way, to my knowledge, to prevent a vampire from entering a building. There is the threshold, and there are spells that can revoke a vampire's invitation across a threshold, but the castle has no threshold for the entire building.”

“No threshold?! I live here! My wife and daughter live-”

Amy cut him off. “I said for the entire building. The various living quarters in the castle do have thresholds. Your chambers, your daughter's chambers, the servant's quarters, and so on. But the castle as a whole, and rooms like the kitchens, the throne room, the grand hall, and so on will not be protected by a threshold. What I can do is set up a series of wards that will go off and raise an alarm if a vampire does enter the castle.”

“Do it.” Lord Chase commanded sternly.

“It will take a day for me to get everything together and into position, but I will get right on it, My Lord. If you will excuse me, I will begin preparations.”

“Very well then.” Lord Chase nodded. “Proceed.”

_The Red Horse Tavern,_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

“Vampires? Really?” Xander's long-time friend Jesse asked later that night, as they were both sitting in the one tavern in Sunnydale Town.

Xander shrugged. “That's what the report says, apparently.”

“Gods.” Jesse said, shaking his head in amazement. “I can't imagine dying...like that. I mean...and...Sunnydale's not a large Lordship. Besides vampires usually stick to the cities, don't they? They aren't supposed to bother with tiny villages like Bronzeton.”

Xander made a noncommittal grunt as he took a sip from his drink. “This one apparently didn't. And Lord Chase, as usual, didn't give much of a fuck about us. I mean, sure, he sent a message to the Slayers down in Agaden, and he's ordered some of the Guard to go down to Bronzeton tomorrow.”

Jesse's eyes widened a little at that. “You're not-?”

“I won't know until tomorrow, one way or the other.” Xander replied. “Dying at the hands – or probably teeth, actually - of a vampire certainly wouldn't be of the good, but neither is letting it run free for the better part of six days, first for the messenger gets to the Slayers and then for the Temple to send someone here to get rid of it. Vampires may be a hell of a lot stronger than we are, but five guards together, well armed and all of us with torches? Gods certainly know I hope they decide to stay away from that. Especially if I'm one of the guards there.” He sighed.

“On to the more pleasant aspects of your job, did you see Lady Cordelia today?” Jesse asked eagerly, with a slightest hint of Jealousy in his tone as well.

Xander resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His friend had many good traits, but his puppy-dog crush on Lord Chase's daughter was not one of them. Though he at least had enough sense and awareness on the subject to know that he had no chance – she was a noble, after all – and was content to simple worship her from afar.

“No, I didn't actually catch a look at her.” He told Jesse. “Though I did hear her chew out a maid for a tiny mistake, as usual. Honestly Jesse, you already know it won't ever happen, so you need to get past this – she's not on the pedestal you've gone and put her up on. She's arrogant, pretentious and a total bitch. Guess that comes with being a noble, but she's a thoroughly unpleasant person to be around, and a poor excuse for a human being.”

_Hill overlooking Sunnydale Town,_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

“The stars speak to me,” Drusilla began in a soft voice looking up at what she was talking about. “They tell such beautiful stories. Pain and death...it's glorious.”

“Can you shut her up Spike?!” Darla snapped at her Great-Grandchilde. The Aurelian leader had never been able to tolerate Drusilla. She was annoying and just as likely to kill a potentially useful minion – if for cannon fodder if nothing else – as she was to decide to have a pet cat and then wring its neck.

No. Drusilla had been Angelus's project, through and through, and it was mostly because of Spike's usefulness and skill in a fight – even if he was insubordinate to her and irreverent to the Order – that she hadn't staked the madwoman already, now that her Angelus had been taken from her. Once again, she cursed those witches for giving her dear boy a soul, and cursed the Temple of Slayers that protected those witches, so she couldn't get her revenge.

Though occasionally Drusilla's visions did have some usefulness as well, Darla had to begrudgingly admit.

“Don't talk about her like that.” Spike countered, the anger in his voice tempered by his sense of self-preservation. Still, he turned back to Drusilla. “Darla's right, though, love. We'll have all the time in the world for you to talk to the stars later.”

Darla looked at the town below. It was a small place, and under normal circumstances, she wouldn't bother with a place like this, especially given how close it was to the Agaden Temple.

But the Prophecies of Aurelius and the 5th Prophecy of the Dark Oracle...they pointed to the return of the Master. Here, six centuries ago, the Master was defeated and sealed away by the Slayers, but soon he would return. And it was time to prepare for his coming. Luke would be here soon, and he had the service of the Three. Darla could not let him be the one to capture this land for the Order of Aurelius – the honor that the Master would bestow on the one who loyally paved the way for his return would be hers and hers alone.

“Tomorrow.” She told the assembled vampires behind her. “We make war upon the living.” Darla's loyalty to the Order had been, always, as much about loyalty to the Master, as her sire, than loyalty to the ideology of Aurelius. That was more Luke's thing. But she knew how to use the rhetoric and language of the Order to get things done with the rank and file – and she had, not counting Spike and Drusilla, fifty vampires with her – to rally.

“For when the Brood of Aurelius kills, and the blood flows like wine...hell itself has come to town.”            


	3. Sineya's Response

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 3: Sineya's Response

**24 to 30 Days until the Red Moon**

_Temple of Sineya,  
Agaden Forest_

In the center of the gym, a tall, pale, black-haired man fought with a short, blonde haired woman, hand to hand. It was almost comical, the height difference. But this was no ordinary man, and this was no ordinary woman.

The man grabbed the woman's arm and wrenched it up, flipping her on it and throwing her to the ground. He came close, in the process, to breaking her arm, but pointedly avoiding doing so. 

“You need to improve your guard, Buffy. Angelus would have killed you twice already today.” The man said, reaching down an arm to help the woman – Buffy – up. 

Buffy took his arm. “But he's not here. And the whole reason I'm training with you is so that I can get better. When we started, I would've died five times by now.” She got back up to her feet.

“Is that _really_ the reason you're training with him, B?” Came another, also female voice from the doorway. “And here I was thinking you just wanted an excuse to feel Angel up.” A dark haired woman, slightly taller than Buffy, walked into the gymnasium. “Hey Angel.” She added, raising a hand a moment.

The man – Angel – nodded at the woman, ignoring her first comment. It was a familiar line from her. “Hello Faith.” He looked back to Buffy. “Again?” 

Buffy nodded, but before they could begin, a third woman entered the room, much older than the both of them. Nikki Wood, High Priestess of the Agaden Temple of Sineya. She had a severe expression on her face. “Ah, Buffy, Faith, Angel. Perfect. I didn't all three of you here, but you're just the ones I was looking for. Something...has come up that may have terrible ramifications. I need you three to investigate it. We'll talk about it in my office.”

The Daughters of Sineya were not a group that thrived on bureaucracy. But it was impossible for them to escape paperwork completely. No organization their size and scope could. There were food, supplies, weapons to purchase – for the Daughters themselves, for the various people that made up the hired help, for the witch covens aligned with each temple. There were herbs and other mystical ingredients that needed to be acquired for those same witches, for their spells and potions. And that money needed to be properly tracked and organized, and the expenses justified. And they needed to keep track of the money coming in. The Daughters were funded primarily by unsolicited donations, from kings and nobles and others who believed that it was best for their long-term safety for the local Temple of Sineya be well funded, so as to better fight vampires, demons and the forces of darkness. But they also took treasures looted from the nests and dens of vampires and demons slain – it was amazing how rich some of them were, sometimes.

And then there were reports. With teams of slayers traveling across the world, doing their best to keep a lid on demonic and vampiric activity, there were the constant reports sent on to the nearest temple. Because not only were the traveling teams supposed to kill any vampires and demons they came across, but they were also supposed to keep their eyes open, their senses extended so that they could pick up any signs of major, long term plans and schemes, or attempts at apocalypse. At which point reinforcements could be sent as needed. Information on new demons needed to be collected and codified. It was simply impossible to do this without paperwork.

The Agaden Temple, like all the temples, had clerks and other hired help to deal with the nitty-gritty of the details, but at some point, the responsibility had to rest in the hands of the a Slayer. And so, in addition to being the leader of the Temple in slayer matters, each temple High Priestess had to be the one to, at the end of the day, sign off and approve all paperwork.

And so High Priestess Nikki Wood, like all High Priestess of Sineya, had an office. 

Once the four of them were in it, Nikki sat down. “You are familiar Angel, I trust, with a vampire cult known as the Order of Aurelius?” Nikki already knew the answer – she didn't need to see the look of recognition that passed across Angel's face to know that he knew.

For Angel was not a straight up human. No human could've beaten a Slayer in anything remotely resembling a fair fight in the first place. No. Angel was not human. He was, in fact a vampire. A vampire with a soul.

Hearing the name of the cult brought back...unpleasant memories, for Angel. They were memories that he always carried with him, yes, but he usually managed to avoid thinking about the worst of them, generally speaking. 

Liam Galway had been a ner-do-well drunkard son of a prominent merchant. Then, a rather poor choice of who to follow out of the tavern had resulted in him being turned by a vampire named Darla. He soon acquired a new name, one which was still well known and feared across the world, by humans and vampires alike. Angelus. He with the 'angelic face'.

For two and a half centuries, Angelus and Darla, later joined by his childe, Drusilla, and his grandchild, William – or Spike, as he was known now – had carved a bloody swath across the continent, on a raping, pillaging, murdering run of blood, destruction, and death. They had gorged on the terror they inspired, the destruction they'd wrought. The four of them had been known as 'The Whirlwind'. 

And there had been the Order of Aurelius. Like Darla herself, and Spike and Drusilla as well, Angelus had never taken the beliefs of the Order very seriously. Destruction of the world at the hands of the Old Ones was not something he wanted – he was having way too much damn fun here on earth. But they were useful as hell, as fodder, as minions. 

The orgy of blood and violence had ended 103 years ago. Angelus, like Darla, tended to try to avoid Slayers, but sometimes there was no getting away from them, especially when you created so much outright carnage. There were just too many of the damn bitches. So he'd killed more than his fair share, either by purposefully killing them himself in ambush or in a straight up fight, if he really had to, or by simply burying them in bodies.

In fact, his record of Slayer kills made him one of the most famous vampires on that score – only vampires like St. Vigeous, and the one calling himself 'the Master', as well as a handful of other, long dead vampires, had higher Slayer kill counts than Angelus. Which was probably why the witches of the Agaden Coven used him for the ensouling spell.

It had been a wholly new spell, as Angel understood it. Created as mostly theory by one of the Agaden Witches, the High Priestess of the Agaden temple had heard about it, and decided it was a good idea. Her temple had been one of the hardest hit by Angelus's continued predations, as he tended to stay in and around Arenso. She had had an idea. Some had called it mad, others had called it brilliant. But it was a simple concept: Who better to train Slayers than someone who remembered killing dozens of them?

It seemed an extremely reasonable option at the time, and so the Agaden Witches had cast the spell. The magic was far darker than had been anticipated, and the witch who had cast it had been forced into rehabilitation for over a year, to get over the resulting dark magic taint. But it had been a resounding success. Angelus had gotten back his soul...the human he had been remembered all the things that he had done as a vampire, all the horrors he'd visited on others, the death, destruction and evil he had wrought...

To know all the terrible things he had done, and to actually give a damn. It was a daily torture he put himself through. He had spent the last century redeeming himself to the best of his ability. Which, he felt, was never enough. He did his best to train Slayers, and he believed he did well on that score. From time to time he went out to fight demons and vampires directly, but he didn't trust himself around ordinary humans that much. He survived on the animal blood, and over time, he'd even grown used to the disgusting taste, but he still, he craved human blood. Here, he could keep himself under control, and he hoped he always could...

“Yes.” Angel said, all this introspection happening quickly. “I know them. Angelus...he was a member, though he never took them very seriously.” It helped him, sometimes, to think of Angelus and what he did as being done by another, separate person, who happened to look like him. 

“Who are they?” Buffy asked, “I mean, I've never heard of them.”

“Its not surprising.” Nikki said. “The Order itself keeps a fairly low profile, even though the Whirlwind was made exclusively of its members.”

“That was you and your old gang, right Angel?” Faith asked softly. Angel nodded, and then continued. 

“They're an old cult, based on the belief that the Old Ones will return one day, and eliminate the plague of humanity. And that in the meantime, vampires need to prepare for it. Its leader...a vampire calling himself the Master,” Angel paused, shrugging, “he went and died centuries before even my time, and the cult's been splintered. My sire, Darla, led one large faction.”

“Actually, the Master was never killed.” Nikki said. “I had to refamiliarize myself with the events surrounding the Master's defeat...the Slayers of the time couldn't kill him. They tried for a long time, but he just refused to die. Not even staking. Eventually, Witches sealed him away. And...we forgot. The seals were supposed to be forever. But I've just received a letter from a scholar – a Rupert Giles - who suggests that may not be as true as was thought. Referring to the 5th Prophecy of the Dark Oracle.” She lifted a particular sheet of paper from her desk and read off of it.

_“When the moon hangs red in the sky_  
And the birds that once dwelled in the air no longer fly  
He who was sealed away so long, shall once more awaken.  
And his fractured followers, no longer shall be they be fallen  
First they shall make the blood of Sineya's Brood flow like wine  
And thus the Brood of Aurelius shall cleanse the Earth of the kine.” 

She set the paper down. Both Faith and Buffy had been unable to prevent themselves from shivering a bit. It was an eerie verse and prophecies had a power of their own, in their words, to incite emotions across the spectrum. “He also included some information about this 'Red Moon'. It is a real astrological phenomenon, and its coming. The Master may be free as soon as twenty four days from now. And...the Witches of the Coven are at a loss as to how that might happen, but the fact is the Dark Oracle hasn't been wrong, in the substance of his prophecies, ever.”

“What are we supposed to do then?”

“We need to prepare. I need the three of you – Angel, as the closest thing we have to a resident expert on the Order of Aurelius, and you, Buffy and Faith, as the most experienced Slayers I have here at the temple – to go to the fortress were the Master was when he was sealed away. I'll be sending more as soon as I can, but preparations need to be made. If vampires are gathering in the area, they need to be eliminated, to prevent any sort of ritual from taking place, to prevent the Master from having minions underneath him if he does in fact return. The Coven is getting everything it can together to rebind him, and working on new variants of the spell if necessary. And trying to figure out how they might actually kill him, since there was no discovered way to do it before. We need more information, and we need to do all we can to prevent or contain the Master's return. This Giles mentioned that he was attempting to get his hands on a book known as the Pergamum Codex, which he believes might be able to help us acquire more information.” Another look of recognition on Angel's face. “You know it?

Angel nodded. “Its the holy book of the Order. Contains, among other things, all the prophecies of Aurelius. No Aurelian vampires will willingly surrender a copy.”

“I doubt this Giles was planning on asking nicely. He said he would send more information as he acquired it. Or if he managed to locate a copy of the Codex. In the meantime, the three of you will travel north, to the Master's resting place. Kill any vampires there that you can, and most importantly, stay alive. All three of you. More Slayers will be coming. If you can't do it on your own, get behind a threshold and wait.”

Buffy nodded. “Okay.”

“Dismissed. Leave at sunset.” Nikki told them. The three left the room, standing in the hallway outside the High Priestess's office a moment.”

“We have a few hours yet.” Angel said. “I'm going to get ready, grab a little sleep before heading out.” 

“No problem, Angel. B and I need to go pick up supplies from Red anyway.” Faith said. Angel nodded, and turned down one hall, towards his room. 

“Is Angel the only person you don't give a nickname to?” Buffy complained as they headed down another hallway, towards the Coven area of the temple.

Faith considered, “Pretty much. Well, I don't give a nickname to the High Priestess, because – hello! High Priestess – but apart from him and her? No one that I can think of. You, Red, T, Wolfboy.” She rattled off other names. “Where is Wolfboy anyway?” Faith suddenly asked, changing tacks. “He was here before I left on my last circuit, but he's not here now. Where did he go?”

“Oz went on a vision quest.” Buffy said. “Something all msytic-y. Advancing to the next level of mental actaualiza-whatsit.” The blonde woman said somewhat dismissively. “I don't know the details. He'll be back.” 

It didn't take them long, once they reached the Coven area, to find Willow Rosenberg, or 'Red', as Faith uncreatively called her after her hair color. She was a new initiate into the Coven, having just passed her training, and so, was left with the fairly boring and dull job, when she wasn't performing spellwork, of overseeing the enchanted weapons and supplies the Coven provided the Slayers when they were out in the field, divvying them out at request. The Coven simply didn't trust that a non-witch could keep an eye on them properly, and they were warded to prevent tampering. 

When they entered, Willow was talking softly with another woman, slightly shorter than her, with light blonde hair. Tara Maclay, another witch, and Willow's girlfriend. 

“Hey Red, T.” Faith said, when she entered. Willow and Tara both turned to look at the new arrives.

“Hey Faith, Buffy.” Willow said, Tara following suit in greeting them. 

“We're here to pick up the usual – weapons, communication orb, the paste,” Buffy rattled off. Enchanted swords were as much a part of the Slayer arsenal as crossbows and stakes, the spells going into them made to be extremely deadly against vampires and demon. The communication orbs were one-way – only a witch could cast the spells to speak through one orb to another, but it was a way to deliver vitally important information back and forth, if absolutely necessary – the spell could be very draining, and the overall sensation it gave the user was...unpleasant, to say the least. 

The paste was a healing paste, made from a combination of herbs activated with a spell. Slayers had healing that was much, much faster than the average human, but sometimes even Slayer healing wasn't fast enough, and the paste, while hard to make, had also saved the life of many a Slayer.

“Of course. The High Priestess sending you to where the Master was sealed?” Willow asked, heading back to collect the requisite items.

“After the High Priestess told the leaders of the Coven, they told all of us. We're all supposed to see if there's anything we can come up with on the magic side of things about how to resolve this.” Tara said softly, in explanation. Buffy remembered when the girl – young witches in training and young slayers in training all had their rooms in the same wing of the Temple, and shared many classes early on – couldn't get a sentence out without stuttering, but now...

Willow returned with the items. Buffy and Faith each grabbed a sword. “You take the orb, B.” Faith said. “I don't want to have to worry about getting yelled at if I drop it. So I'll leave that to you.”

“You're all heart, Faith.” Buffy replied. 

“When are you leaving?” Willow asked.

“At sundown. The High Priestess is sending Angel with us. Apparently his sire is an Aurelian. So we'll need to take it all at night.”

“Which leaves us wide open to being attacked while we're on the move.” Faith complained. 

“We're Slayers,” Buffy replied, rolling her eyes. “We can handle what comes at us.”

“Doesn't mean I want to get attacked. I'd rather do the attacking.” Faith replied, swinging the sword experimentally. 

**Next Time on Red Moon Rises:** _Wesley, Gunn and Fred near the castle controlled by the Aurelian Nest, but they're not the only ones looking for more information about the Master's return. Not all who are evil want to see the return of the Old Ones, and in particular among them, a woman whom Wesley rather hoped he'd never meet again._

**Author's Note:** Bonus points and a free cookie to anyone who correctly guesses the woman in question. Not that its that hard...


	4. Research Materials

**Disclaimer:** Move along now. Nothing to see here. Not mine.

The Prophecies Cycle

The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 4: Research Materials

**22 to 28 Days until the Red Moon**

The dark gray walls of the castle loomed over them, a quarter moon hanging in the sky overhead. Wesley double checked his crossbow, making sure it was loaded and prepped properly. Then he turned back to Fred and Gunn. “Ready?”

Fred looked up from her own crossbow – unlike his, which was of a rather simple design, Fred's was customized, and could fire five bolts without needing to be reloaded. As always, he'd long since given up trying to figure out how she'd managed it. “Ready.”

“Gunn?” Wesley turned to the black man, who nodded.

“I'm good to go.” He flipped his right hand, his axe spinning in a broad circle with the motion.

Wesley was about to turn back towards the walls when Fred spoke. “Not to take back my readiness, but shouldn't we be waiting until sunrise? We'd have the advantage of being able to pull back, contain their movements.”

“Under normal circumstances, I'd say that would be a brilliant idea.” Wesley replied. “But it took us two days to get here, and it will take us two days to get back. The world could very well end within the next four weeks or less. We can't afford to waste time. We need to get a copy of the Pergamum Codex and get it back to Giles as soon as possible, so we can determine our next move.”

“Besides,” Gunn said, “We can handle these vampires, day or night. We've faced worse.” Wesley and Fred both had to agree with that.

The castle was not a well-maintained structure. Wesley had no idea when it had been built, but it had to have been some time ago. The walls were worn smooth, the ceilings of the structure's towers collapsed inwards, leaving gaping holes gazing skyward. Cracks wormed their way across the surface of the walls, some wide, some thin, but the how structure was covered in them.

There were numerous doors – well, doorways, the wood that had once stood in them had long since rotted away to nothing – leading into the structure. The main gates, obviously, but also the various side doors, servants entrances, and so on. The issue was, knowing which door was best to enter through. There were far too few vampires to fill the entire structure – Wesley estimated, from available reports about the about ten or so vampires there. There just wasn't enough trade and activity on the road to sustain more vampires, given what he knew about vampire feeding habits, But the castle, in its heyday, probably held at least three or four hundred people.

Wesley led the others towards a side door, which he'd picked at random. When they reached the door, the former Watcher pulled a torch from his pack and murmured a word. He was not an accomplished magic user by any metric of the word, but he had some small abilities, and in particular he was good at manipulating and creating fire. He didn't have the depth of power to use much magic in a day though.

“No reason to try being stealthy, this time. Its just ten of them. He flicked his wrist as they entered the castle, the collapsible sword Fred had made for him extending out from the wrist device.

The three walked through the dark halls of the castle, the light from the torch casting long, flickering shadows on the walls and floor. Their footsteps echoed around the room as the walked on the floor, the hollow sound bouncing all around them, ringing in their ears. The flicking shadows, combined with the total silence apart from their footsteps left a haunted feeling filling all three of them. Wesley was less affected, but still, it was...unnerving, even for him.

Without warning, a vampire rushed out from a room, its demonic face out, snarling with hunger and rage. It tackled Wesley to the ground, the sword and torch dropping to the ground. Gunn raised his axe, looking for an opening to at least injure the vampire, while Fred brought up her crossbow and aimed.

The struggle between Wesley and the vampire as the demonically possessed corpse made every effort to get to Wesley's neck, and the Britillian man made every effort to protect his throat. With a lunge, it almost got to his neck, but instead its teeth sank into Wesley's shoulder, a bolt fired by Fred embedding itself into the Vampire's back, throwing off its aim. Fred had been aiming for the creature's heart, but the constant movement of the two had thrown her aim off.

Wesley grunted in slight pain, but refused to let this opportunity go to waste. Without either of his immediate weapons, Wesley pulled a stake from his pocket and drove it into the back of the Vampire's head. The vampire didn't die instantly, nor did the stake get through its skull, but the damage did what Wesley intended. It fell off him for a moment, rolling to the side. Wesley pulled himself onto all fours and reached for his sword. But he didn't get a chance to use it.

The three of them had fought together before, and like on of Fred's clockwork machines, Gunn was moving in action the moment Wesley was out from underneath the vampire. He was there and swinging in seconds, the axe slicing right through the moving corpses' neck. As always happened, the vampire turned to dust with a scream as its head was separated from its neck.

The vampire dispatched, Gunn reached down to help Wesley too his feet. The other man took the proffered hand gratefully and brushed the vampire's dust off himself. He gingerly picked up the still lit torch and his sword. “Well, that's one down. We should check the room it came from, see if the Pergamum Codex is in there. From what I've read in Giles' books on the way here, the Aurelians like to make their temples in the temples and shrines of human faiths, desecrating and corrupting the original holy sites and symbols to new purpose. It will likely be in this castle's shrine. Still, we should check.”

Gunn and Fred nodded in assent – even if the Codex wasn't in that room, vampires, among all the things they killed, usually had the most valuables, and it was a more than lucrative. They followed Wesley into the room, his torch casting more shadows over the whole chamber. The entire room stank. There was one corner of the room covered in dried blood, a small stack of bodies – in varying states of decay – in the opposite corner, along the same wall. The had obviously been lived in, but maintained about as well as a rats' nest.

Wrinkling his nose, Wesley went farther in. Once this would have forced him to retch, or at least fight back that urge, but he – and to a lesser extent Fred and Gunn – had seen and smelt worse in their time. At this point, Wesley had ceased to be shocked or appalled by the monstrosities caused by vampires and demons. He took it in stride, as more proof – as if more proof was remotely necessary – that such beings were blights on the earth that should be eliminated wherever found.

Handing the torch to Gunn, Wesley opened the small chest at the foot of the unkempt and blood-stained bed at the far end of the room. It was unlocked. Inside it were assorted valuables – coins of copper, of silver and of gold from a dozen lands, small valuable and semi-valuable items, jewelry and even a small silver statuette. Enough to feed a family for a year. Unfortunately, it was far too much for them to take with them while they hunted down the rest of the vampires in the castle, while they searched for the Codex. Wesley closed the chest and stood up. “If there's time when we leave, we'll have to remember to come back here.”

“Definitely.” Gunn said. “But we need to take out those vampires first. Do you have any idea where this castle's shrine might be?”

Wesley shook his head. “No.” If it had been a Britillian castle, he'd know exactly. His people had been building castle according to the same general layout for centuries. Here on the mainland though, the layout of a castle was entirely up to the whims of the architect and whoever was paying said architect.

“Down.” Fred said. “In the basement. Near the dungeons.” Fred said.

“How do you know that?”

Fred answered her husband's question, gesturing to the room, and then out into the hall. “I knew the architecture looked familiar, but I couldn't place it until now. When I was at the Royal University in Charos,” The capital of the Kingdom of Arenso, “I studied architecture, engineering for a while. The way the walls and and ceilings are built- and those  _ towers _ . If you know your castle architecture well enough, you can tell who built the castle, or at least if two castles were built by the same person, or in the same style, on the same plan. There are these little telltale signs that you can see, if you know what you're looking for.” She paused, “Remember the Castle at Fyrima? Where we fought that cult that was worshiping the Lurite demon?” Before she could go on, Wesley interrupted.

“Technically that wasn't a Lurite, it was a Murite. A subspecies of the Lurite. Its a common mistake but you can tell by the fact that the male sports a small fin just behind the third shoulder.” Fred and Gunn both looked at him. He had the decency to look a little sheepish – his tendency to over-communicate was less of a problem now than it had been in the past, but it reared its ugly head from time to time, and this was one of those times. “That rather irrelevant wasn't it? Sorry, continue.”

“Anyway,” Fred said after waiting a moment to be sure Wesley wouldn't interrupt her again, “I can tell by these little hints, that this castle and the one at Fyrima were built, if not by the same person, then by the same plan and on the same style. The key thing was out in the hall – there's this specific, certain, kind of slight,” she groped for the right words, “vault to the ceiling. If you don't know what you're looking for, you would never notice it. But I've only seen that particular vault in one other castle. The one at Fyrima. I'm at least 90% sure that this castle was built on the same plan as Fyrima. And since the shrine in Fyrima was near the dungeons...”

“Then the same should hold true for her. Brilliant, Fred.” Wesley said, “As always. So...we need to get to the Grand Hall.” At Fyrima, they'd made their way down to the Shrine – which had been desecrated and put to a new purpose by the Murite Cult – from a set of stairs near the Grand Hall. “Any idea how we get from here to there?'

Fred shook her head. “Further in. That's all I can think of.” Wesley shrugged, and they headed out of the room, back into the hall. A few minutes later, Gunn noticed a small bloodstain spreading on Wesley's right shoulder.

“Ah, Wes,” Gunn said softly, “You shoulder.”

“What are you talking about?” Wesley stopped walking and turned his head to look. He saw the blood staining his shirt, which he could see through the tear in his coat. Both had been caused by the bite that the vampire had gotten into his shoulder. No major arteries or veins – or even minor ones – had been hit, so it wasn't that much blood, but it still wasn't a good idea to lose blood like that. _Though, on the bright side, it might bring the vampires to us, so we don't have to take the time to find them so that we can kill them._.. He chuckled aloud when he had that thought, and Fred and Gunn shot him odd looks.

“Shit.” He muttered. He tore a strip from his left sleeve and quickly turned it into a makeshift bandage. It wouldn’t last for long, but it would do for the moment.

They walked farther down the halls, their footsteps continuing to echo off the floors. They made it to the wide open Grand Hall without further incident. They could smell the stench of death, decay, dried blood, and had seen signs of it all over the halls. The vampires here were, to say the least, messy eaters.

They went to the stairs. Wesley took out two more torches and handed one each to Gunn and Fred. He lit both for them – when fighting vampires, it always helped to have fire to fall back on. Despite the fact that he'd just called fire, Wesley shivered a little. The magic had, in essence, removed some of his own body heat. It came back quickly, but he was reminded one again how limited his reserves were.

As they went down the stairs, torches held high, the sound of chanting drifting up towards them. The chanting was not in any mortal language. The demonic tongue made their skin crawl. Probably intrinsic to its nature. Wesley twitched involuntarily, convulsing a bit as the dark power crackled against his senses. His sixth sense, for magic, was not very strong or sensitive, but the sheer amount of magical static and power the vampires were throwing up was impossible to miss. It set his teeth on edge.

Finally, they reached the bottom of the stairs. Ten vampires were standing in a circle around an eleventh, a larger ring of red candles standing around them. Each of the vampires in the inner circle was holding a different totem, statues of various Old Ones. Wesley could feel the power rolling off them, flowing into the middle vampire. That vampire wore blood red robes trimmed with black on the bottom and sleeves. His arms were raised up in a semi-circle, hands open. His head was thrown back.

“The power. I can feel the power!” The vampire said in a low, gravelly voice. “Continue!” He shifted back into the demonic tongue of before, as the chanting from the others sped up, reaching a fevered tempo. Wesley nodded to Fred, who raised her crossbow. Their footsteps, the flames from their torches clearly hadn’t been noticed. Fred leveled her crossbow at the one in the middle. She fired, then, with three shots still in place, fired at three other vampires in rapid succession. Rather than taking the time to load five more, she flicked her wrist and produced her own collapsible sword, then looked up to see the results of her handiwork.

The priest had survived her attack, the bolt instead embedding itself in the vampire's stomach. But the other three were all dead, piles of dust, taking even their clothing with them.  _ I don't think I'll ever understand why that happens _ , she thought idly. Gunn dropped down from the stairs, landing behind another vampire and swinging. The vampire caught the axe blow with his forearm hitting against the haft. But it left him wide open to the torch in Gunn's hand, which struck the enemy in the chest. The vampire screeched and staggered back.

Wesley didn't go in for a dramatic drop down, but he did join into the fighting. Two vampires grabbed swords from a rack on the wall and charged at him, the others who weren't busy also arming themselves. Wesley backed himself against a wall – a wall covered in inverted holy symbols and symbols, sigils and letters from dozens of dialects, ranging from Primordial Sanskrit to Nyazian. Most of them were either nonsense or bastardized words, the kind of things written by eager, but ignorant cultists. Exactly the mindset of those who would be drawn to a cult like the Aurelians.

The two vampires attacked him, and Wesley swung with his blade and torch, managing to avoid their attack and keep them at bay. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gunn and Fred fighting back to back, surrounded by three other vampires. The priest shouted encouragement to his men, while the last cultist looked between the two fights, as if debating where to go.

Wesley blocked two more attacks, and then saw the undecided vampire move over to him, even as Gunn beheaded another vampire. Ducking under one vampire's guard, he sliced at an opponent's stomach, forcing one to stagger back. He debated using his magic again, but then thought better of it. His reserves on that front were completely exhausted. Pulling himself back up he hissed in pain as he was cut on his arm – near the same spot he'd been hit just under a week ago. Gritting his teeth against the pain he thrust out with his torch, by sheer chance getting one vampire right in the face. The vampire staggered back, his head on fire. Wesley took the opportunity and threw the entire torch at the vampire, who was not only lit more, but knocked back into the ring of candles. Three candles fell onto him as he hit the ground, and he was dead for a second time moments later. With only one opponent left standing – the one he'd hit in the stomach as down for the count for another few seconds, Wesley swept an arc with his leg, attempting to trip his foe, but the vampire was too fast for him, and the former watcher barely managed to avoid tripping. But, in doing so, he convinced the vampire to make the fatal mistake many vampires did when fighting regular mortals. He became overconfident and overextended himself. With a final swing, he neatly dispatched his opponent and followed suit with the one still prone on the ground. And that was when things turned bad.

Gunn and Fred had fared well with theirs. One had swung out at Fred and grabbed her left arm, nearly breaking it. It was just dislocated, but only because Fred kicked out and hit the vampire between the legs. It fell to the ground, and Fred dispatched the last of the vampires, bar the priest.

But before the priest could be killed, it had grabbed gun and held him, arms locked behind his back, and the vampire holding a claw-like hand to the black man's neck.

“You have fought well, humans, but the losses I've suffered are meaningless. I will rebuild my cult – starting with this one, and you, and there is nothing you will be able to do about it. The Master's rising is at hand, and I will be there at Luke's side when he greets his sire. There is nothing anyone can do to save this land – this wretched world will burn with the purifying flames of-” Even though neither Fred nor Wesley had made a move towards the posturing priest, his words were cut off when he suddenly exploded into dust.

“By the dark gods, that man was getting annoying.” A female voice said from the shadows. A woman with long brown hair, wearing a form-fitting black outfit that left little to the imagination stepped into view, an empty hand-crossbow in her hand. Wesley recognized her immediately.

“Lilah.” He spat the name, “What are you doing here?”

The woman – Lilah – pouted visibly. “Oh, come on Wes, don't tell me you're still upset about the whole sleeping with you and then trying to kill you the next morning thing? It was just business, I promise. Nothing personal.”

Gunn stepped forward, away from Lilah, and looked at Wesley, rubbing his neck as if to assure himself that it was still whole and uninjured. “So I take it you two know eachother.”

“Pretty well, by the sound of it.” Fred added. “Care to introduce us, Wesley?”

Wesley sighed. “Fred, Gunn, this is Lilah. She's evil. Lilah, this is Winifred Burkle-Gunn, and her husband, Charles Gunn.”

“You're just going to dismiss me with a 'she's evil'?” Lilah complained. “You're doing me a disservice.”

“You're doing humanity a disservice by continuing to breathe, Lilah.” Wesley shot back. “And you never answered my question. What are you doing here?”

“The same think I'd guess you are.” Lilah walked over to the altar, covered in skulls, and grabbed the black-leather bound book resting on it. “Looking for the Pergamum Codex.” She looked up at them. “Don't look so surprised. I may be evil, but neither I nor the Order of the Black Thorn is at all interested in the destruction of the world. We're trying to take it over, after all.”

“And you think we're just going to let you walk away with the Codex, because you tell us you're on our side on this? I don't believe you.” Wesley replied cooly.

“No. I expect you to consider the fact that I just saved your friend's life and let me join you on your merry little quest to save the world!” She made her voice high pitched for that, in some sort of exaggerated dramaticism. She grew more serious. “I don't want the world to end, and neither do you. Believe me, you'll need my help. The Order knows things, and they'll be things of great use to defeating the Master and the Aurelians.”

“Why don't you just tell us, then?” Gunn asked.

“Because then I wouldn't have an excuse for coming along with you. Come on, it'll be fun!” She drawled sarcastically. “And because I don't trust Wesley not to stab me in the back as soon as I turn to leave.”

“Unlike you, I don't stab people in the back,” _Figuratively speaking, anyway,_ “When I stab you, we'll be facing eachother.”

Lilah smirked. “There are so many different ways to take a sentence, aren't there?

**Next time, on The Red Moon Rises:** _ Darla and her vampires attack Sunnydale head on, feeding on or killing dozens, hundreds. The initial assault reaches all the way into the castle. Can Xander, Cordelia and Amy survive the onslaught? Can they survive eachother? _ _ Find out, on The Red Moon Rises, Chapter 5: Assault on Sunnydale _ .

 


	5. Dead Night

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 5: Dead Night

**23 to 29 Days until the Red Moon**

_Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

Like a plague of hungry, blood sucking locusts, the forces of the Cult of Aurelius descended on Sunnydale Town, under the leadership of Darla, childe of The Master. In service to their dark patron, and their even darker faith, with thoughts of the glory of the Old Ones in their mind, they attacked. The quarter moon hung high in the sky, shining a dim white light down on the town as the attack happened.

The town's tall walls were no barrier to the vampires, who had the strength and speed necessary to vault over them. And indeed, as they drew close, they did just that, landing on their feet on the other side, and fanning out.

The late hour meant that the majority of Sunnydale's populace was already inside their homes, protected by thresholds. Safe. For now. But there were more than enough who were not. There were those who were outside, at this doomed hour. The homeless, the hopeless, the drunk, the criminal, the unfortunate. There were House Chase guards on patrol in the town, holding torches that did little to protect them against massed assault.

Each and everyone of of these doomed souls was quietly attacked, drained of their lifeblood, and left behind, empty collections of flesh. For most, that was all there was, but for some. For some...some got it even worse. Not left to the peace of death, they were feed the blood of the vampire, guaranteeing that come the morning, they would rise again, as their bodies were dragged out of the eventual path of the sun to 'safety'.

The vampires were hungry. Reapers of the human cattle, they drank. They fed on the weak, as all humans were. The fed until the blood ran down their chins, until it flowed freely and splashed down to the ground. Wicked, cruel smiles formed on their faces as they killed, and killed and killed.

And one of these poor, unfortunate souls who had only death and damnation awaiting them was a young man. A young man known as Jesse McNally.

~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~

“Fucking asshole.” Jesse muttered, referring to his boss, the owner of the Red Horse Tavern. The taproom had closed, as normal, around midnight, and as always, the drunks who couldn't leave on their own power were thrown out. This time, however, they decided to leave a parting gift on the floor and tables, in the form of throwing up on it. And, despite the fact that Jesse always went home a midnight, the tavern owner had decided that it was going to be his job – _his job_ – to clean it all up. And so, he had wasted an hour of his life cleaning that shit up. _Fucking Bastard. Fucking Bastards_. He thought, his boss, and the drunks who had created the problem equally damned in his eyes. _Sometimes...I hate my life._

From nearby shadows, Darla watched the pathetic mortal, two minions by her side. He wasn't much to look at, utterly normal. But Darla had found, in her time, that the angry nobodies made some of the best killers. They had so much aggression to work off...and she would need killers. And this boy, this pathetic little boy was a nobody, and she could feel the anger, the almost rage rolling off of him. She nodded to her minions. Without a word, at impossible speeds, they were out of the shadows and lunged out at him. They pinned his arms to his sides, one of them clamping a hand over the boy's mouth, preventing him from crying out.

Smirking, Darla drew in close, adopting her true face. She licked her lips at the look of horror that formed on his face. “They always taste better when they're afraid.” She said softly, before making the final lunge. She sank her teeth into his neck, and drank deeply.

Jesse McNally screamed soundlessly against the hand over his mouth as his life's blood was sucked from his neck.

_Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

_ Gods above, this is as boring as hell _ . Xander thought to himself, again, not for the first time – not even the first time that day.  _ Then again...I think its actually tomorrow now, _ he mused, looking up at the moon in the sky. He chuckled a little, then sighed. He returned to looking over Sunnydale Town beneath the walls of Chase Castle. Not that much was revealed. The moon and the stars did not give him enough light to really see down there, and neither did the light from the torch he carried. Still, it was his job to patrol the walls and keep watch. Tonight, at least.

With another sigh, Xander continued walking along the wall-top, looking over to the town, then the courtyard then back to the town, then back to the courtyard, then back to the town. The mindless monotony of this looking back and forth, back and forth was not lost on him – not at all. And, surprise, surprise, he saw nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Okay, well that wasn't entirely true. After all, up ahead he saw another guard, torch in hand, standing in place, drumming his fingers against the battlements in boredom. “Hey Larry.” Xander said as he approached the man. “Slow night?”

“Fucking dead night.” Larry replied scornfully. “Not that that's much of a surprise. I mean night's dead. Absolutely nothing happens here at night.” He shrugged. “But what the hell? I mean, hey, were getting paid to walk around and do pretty much nothing.”

Xander agreed. “That's about the size of it. I guess it makes his  _ lordship _ sleep better in his fancy bed. So yea, what the hell. We're getting paid.”

Larry nodded at that, and turned, about get started on patrolling some more when they both heard the faintest sound of a scream from the town below. “What the-” Larry started, but before he could continue, they heard a growling snarl, and something human-shaped leapt the thirty feet from the ground to the wall-top. Another snarl escaped from the attacker, and then Xander found himself pushed to the ground effortlessly by the enemy, despite struggling with all his strength. This person...was impossibly strong,

As Xander persistently fought back to no avail, they rolled back and forth across the wall-top, drawing dangerously close to the edge, to falling off into the courtyard. Suddenly, the man hissed and sprang off him, and Xander watched in grim fascination, horrified, as the man stood and pulled Larry's sword from his stomach, tossing it aside. And that was when Xander saw them. The ridges.

Xander had never before met a Vampire, and would've been more than happy to never, ever meet one, but he knew what one looked like well enough, when it had its true face one. Xander knew what those ridges meant. Leaping to his feet, Xander scrambled for his fallen torch and thrust it out at the vampire. The light in its face threw it off a moment, and that was enough for Larry to shove it, hard.

Unfortunately, it didn't fall off the walls and back down into the town.

It fell off the walls and down into the courtyard. Xander looked at Larry, a horrifying thought coming to mind. “The castle doesn't have a threshold.” He said. He handed the torch to Larry, so that the other guard had two, and drew his sword. “Sound the alarm, I'll see what I can-” Larry didn't seem to be listening, instead, looking back down into the town below. Dozens of shrouded, human-shaped beings moved towards the walls, their eyes glowing with a monstrous light. “Its a fucking army of them.” Xander shoved Larry a little. “Larry, move. Get the alarm!” That roused his fellow guardsman, who nodded. They both rushed for the stairs that would lead down from the wall. Once they were on the ground, Larry went one way, towards the guardhouse to raise the alarm, to rouse the guards to repel this attack.

_ An attack by an army of vampires. Where the fuck does this come from? _ Xander, for his part, raced towards the castle. The castle itself didn't have a threshold, he'd heard Amy say that. But the various rooms did, which was a good thing. Most people, save for a servant or two and some guards on patrol within the halls, would be safely behind a threshold, and could ride out this attack till day, albeit under siege. The issue would become those who were still outside. He needed to get to them, and stop that vampire that was already in- As he ran, he turned his head back to look at the wall, and saw more. More vampires, leaping up onto the wall, then leaping down, off the walls, into the courtyard with no signs of being injured or otherwise discomforted by the fall. His legs already screaming, Xander started to run even faster, reaching the doors of the castle. The vampire that had run first attacked him had already thrown them open, and Xander saw the dead body of a guardsman in the grand hall. Anger rising in him, Xander took a torch from the wall and hurried deeper into the castle, the army close behind, entering into the building.

One vampire would've been far too much for Xander to take in a fair fight, though if he was lucky, maybe he'd be able to take it, and Xander certainly had only his luck to trade on. With other guards, they might have even had even odds, but even if the entire House Chase Guard came together as one, there was simply no way that they could combat this many vampires.

He needed to get behind a threshold, but there was something even more important that needed to be done. The alarm bell hadn't gone off, and Xander, fear gripping his mind, knew what that likely meant. Larry was dead, and the alarm just plain wasn't going to go off, at all. Which left him with only one option. Immediately, he changed course and went down a side hall, running for the Barracks. As he drew close, he slowed, his lungs starting to burn, legs already numbing. The door to the barracks was open, and he saw the vampire from before, the first one. A dead guard was already slumped at its feet, its back to Xander as it fed on another. It seemed too distracted to notice that he was there. Thinking quickly, Xander made a decision. Pulling his arm back, he threw the torch with all his might. His aim, fortunately, was true, and as it struck the vampire, Xander drew his sword and went in. He had terrible odds, but really, this was his only option.

The vampire, feeling the fire hit its back, dropped the half-dead guard it had been feeding on and hissed in pain, spinning around as the torch clattered to the ground. It saw the pathetic mortal, the animal that thought it could fight its betters and win, running towards him, and the vampire decided to meet the human head on. This, however, was a mistake. Overconfident, it lunged right at him, and Xander took advantage. Before the vampire's punch could reach him, Xander swung his sword at the the unarmed and unarmored vampire. The blade passed through the vampire's wrist, cutting through the decades dead flesh, removing the hand. He knew that it wouldn't incapacitate the vampire for long, but it would have to do.

And indeed, the vampire recoiled in pain, distracted, thrown off. No mere mortal had ever managed to hurt it, and this...  _ My hand! _ It would grow back..but...snarling, the vampire lunged at Xander forcing him to the ground, but the guardsman managed to keep a hold of his sword and he stabbed it into the vampire's side as he was pinned down. The vampire reared back in pain, and Xander pulled the blade, stabbing again, and again

_ If I can keep hurting it, I can keep it from killing me.... _ Xander's mind raced.  _ How do you kill a vampire? _ He racked his mind for the ways he'd heard, the warnings every child got.  _ Sunlight? Can't do that. Fire? Don't have any on hand – brilliant move, Xander, tossing your torch like that. _ Xander felt the vampire's 'breath' on his neck, as it drew closer, and even another stab didn't stop it.  _ Silver? I have a coin- no, that's werewolves...fuck. Shit, shit...wooden stake, I don't have one...beheading....that...if I just _ .... It was his only shot. But with the vampire so close....he could feel the vampire's teeth scraping against his neck....Xander swung the sword at the corpse's neck not managing to slice through it, but cutting partway through, severing it somewhat. The vampire fell back, and Xander didn't wait. He moved back himself, and swung again, slicing all the way through. His position under the vampire, though...the sword carried through and sliced into his arm, just above the wrist. It didn't go that far in, but Xander swore as blood poured from the wound, the vampire now nothing but dust.

Fortunately, the noise created by the fight had woken the rest of the guards in the Barracks up.

“What the fuck is going on, Xander?” One of them, Devon, said, pointing to their two dead fellows. “What happened-”

“Vampires. Whole fucking army of them.” As if to illustrate his point, three vampires, wearing their true faces, turned down into the corner. “Get your weapons, armor! Move!” They hurriedly complied, and Xander snatched another torch from the wall, teeth clenched against the pain in his arm, and threw it at the vampires. Unfortunately, it did nothing but fall short. Cursing, Xander slammed the door behind him, putting at least slight barrier between the vampires and the barracks, as the guardsmen hurriedly threw on their chainmail and grabbed their weapons. As the door broke down, they were something resembling ready, for a given value of the word.

Xander watched the fight, hastily bandaging his arm, then joined in. Quickly, two of the guards were killed, their necks snapped, but then the guards figured it out. Using their swords, they managed to keep the unarmed vampires at something resembling range, but they were unable to do anything more. Xander saw an unlit oil lamp sitting in the far side of the room, and had an idea. Swinging out at one of the vampires – who dodged, Xander ducked back and ran to the lamp. He grabbed the only other lit torch in the room with his other hand, and, careful to keep the two apart, raced back towards the fight. “Back!” He shouted to the guards, and they obeyed. Xander drew in close as they did so, a handful of steps away from the vampires, and threw the lamp at them. They were splashed, but, of course, the oil alone had no effect.

“It wasn't holy water, you pathetic animal.” One of them said. “Your foolishness will see you die. We are the Order of Aurelius, and we will purge this land clean. Hell itself had come to-” Xander didn't bother to hear anymore, and thrust the torch out at the vampires. The oil did its job, and they caught fire, their inhuman screams sending shivers down the spines of all the guardsmen, even as they charged in to behead the vampires, killing them before the fire could.

The battle for Sunnydale had begun.

**Author's Note:** Yes, I know the Aurelian Vampires are talking a lot, but from what we see of Season 1 of Buffy, and the other vampire cults in the show(s) seems to be a fairly common disease among vampire religious fanatics.

**Next Time, on Red Moon Rises:** _ The Vampiric attack on Sunnydale continues, with seemingly no chance for human survival. Can Xander, with only a handful of guardsmen and his own ingenuity make it to the other side of the castle, and get to the only person who has even the slightest hope of helping them against this many of the walking dead? _

 


	6. The Battle for Sunnydale

**Disclaimer:** I don't own BtVS or AtS.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 6: The Battle for Sunnydale

**23 to 29 Days until the Red Moon**

_Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

There were many things that you could say about Lady Cordelia Chase, daughter of and heir to Lord David Chase and Lady Miram Chase: Arrogant, spoiled rotten, beautiful, bitchy, sarcastic, tactless, sharp tongued...

But there was one thing you absolutely _couldn't_ say about Cordelia Chase. For all her airs, she wasn't an idiot. She was, actually, surprisingly intelligent when she decided to actively make the effort to put her mind to something. Of course, with all her arrogance, egoism and sheltered upbringing and lifestyle, her ability to make well-informed, carefully reasoned decisions was...lacking.

Still, for once, her egotistical nature had actually paid off. When she'd heard the reports of vampire activity in the area around Sunnydale, she couldn't imagine that the vampires wouldn't want to immediately go for her obviously superior blood – plus, she was just so beautiful they'd definitely want to drain her blood.

Dying – or becoming undead – had, understandably, little to no appeal to her. She'd managed to, even before her father had set Amy to setting wards up over the entire castle, to get the hired witch set some up for her room.

And so it was that the moment vampires entered the castle, Cordelia was woken up by an insistent ringing in her head.

_What the hell-?_ She rubbed her eyes as she sat up. She shook her head violently, trying to get the ringing out of her head. _I_ know _I didn't have anything to drink last night..._ Cordelia had had a hangover once. She hadn't much liked the feeling.

_Oh my gods..._ it suddenly occurred to her. Before she could really complete her thought, she was out of bed, and pulling a robe over her nightgown. She was safe inside her room...anyone who had a single room like this was safe...but if her parents didn't _know_... again, without really processing it, she was out of her room, and running towards the stairs up, to her mother and father's chambers. Her father would know what to do. He always did.

_Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

Darla looked up at the 'impressive' walls of Chase Castle, throughly unimpressed. _Oh, they might do for keeping out petty mortal invaders – so like humans to think so small..._ but they were nothing for her force of vampires.

“My lady.” One of her minions intoned, kneeling before her. “The lower town is ours. Any humans outside their homes have been killed, or turned, as you have commanded.”

“Excellent. We'll deal with the ones hiding behind their pathetic little thresholds soon enough.” Darla spat venomously. A thresholds only mattered if the house was still intact...and that could easily be fixed, though not tonight... “What of the castle?”

The Aurelian hesitated for a moment, “...things did not go as...smoothly, there, Mistress.” He admitted. “We...one of the wall guards evaded us, and got into the castle...he didn't raise the alarm-” he hastily added, “but...the vampire dispatched after him hasn't reported back...he may have decided to get distracted from our holy mission to...indulge...”

“Or we may have a human who killed one of us. And he isn't even a Daughter of Sineya! Do I have to do everything myself?!” She reached down and ripped her minion's ear off, ignoring his scream of agony. “Oh, shut up you pathetic sniveling worm!” With a well-aimed kick, Darla sent the far younger vampire sprawling.

“My kitten...he's here. The stars tell me...they tell such lovely tales. He's a white knight...” Drusilla began to mumble on.

“Spike, shut her up!” Darla hissed at the blonde vampire. “I can't think when she's rambling on.” Then, an idea occurred to her. “No. Better plan. You two go find this human and kill him. And feel free to have fun with whoever else you find in there when you're done. Just make sure that the guards are dead. The faster we get this done with, the faster we can be sure the town is secure. I don't want any complications when the Daughters arrive. And they will arrive.” _And quite possibly with Angelus in tow..._ She allowed herself a moment's reminiscing about the things they did to and with eachother, in their century and a half rampage across the kingdom. And it had been glorious...

Darla shook her head violently, ridding herself of the thoughts of her lost childe. “Are we clear, Spike? No having fun until **all the guards are dead.** Understand me?!” Her voices raised as she came to an end.

“Alright, alright. I get you, Darla.” Spike said, almost defensively. “We'll kill the damn guards.” He turned his head back towards Drusilla. “How does that sound luv? Would you like to do some killing?”

“The stars...it sounds lovely, my Spike.” She slipped her hand into Spikes and the two of them raced towards the walls, jumping to the battlements as one.

“So disgustingly in love.” Darla shook her head. They were both far too human. They had no desire to see the Master's vision unfold. Soon enough, they were likely to become a liability. But for now, they were some of the best killers that she had at her disposal.

_Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

“So what the hell are we up against?” Devon asked Xander, as the surviving guards re-adjusted their armor to be better suited to wearing for long-term use.

“I have no idea. An army of vampires. Fucking too many to just fight. They...they've overrun the city.”

“How the fuck do you propose we fight an _army_ of vampires?”

“Carefully.” Xander said. “Vampires are stronger, faster and tougher than we are. But they're not invincible. Or even invulnerable. I killed one, and together, we dealt with another three. If I had to guess, I'd say they're overconfident. When you're stronger and faster than the other guy, and really hard to kill on top of that, you don't need to fight smart. We on the other hand, can, and we need to. There are five of us. We take torches, we work together, and maybe, just maybe, we can get through this.”

“How, exactly. You're still not proposing much in the way of workable solutions!” Devon insisted. “We can't kill them all. We need to get behind a threshold and wait until sunrise-”

Xander cut him off. “And then what? Everyone cowers at night, while the vampires rule the town and the castle? Besides, it wouldn't he hard for them to just cover the windows here in the castle, and then what? No. We need a solution. At least, some kind of holding pattern. We need Lord Chase's witch, Amy Madison.”

“Oh yes, trust our lives to that psychopath.”

“I'd rather trust my life to her than have guaranteed death at the hands of a vampire. Besides, who else do you know that can conjure up fireballs on a whim? Just think of toasted vampires. Let's go!” Xander grabbed an unlit torch and used one of the other guards' torches to light it. Without waiting for the others, he immediately set out of the Barracks. Crossing the entire castle in the meantime.

Even as the guards moved out, all of them – even Devon, for all his protests – of the barracks, two other - well, calling them _people_ wasn't quite accurate - were venturing further into the castle.

Spike banged on the first door he found, then, with an effortless kick, turned it into splinters. “That never gets old.” He commented to Drusilla, and entered into the revealed kitchen. “Wrong kind of food, then, Dru.”

“I know you're in here,” Drusilla said in a sing-song voice. “Come out, little boy. I've got a nice treat for you if you do...a sweet and lovely treat for the good little boy..” Spike was confused for a moment, then he smelt it too. The heavy layers of spices and other food products had blocked it for a few moments. There was a human here...and young, like Dru said. _Oh, she loves that._ Spike thought with a wicked smirk. _Dru always did like 'em young._ He followed her farther into the room, eyes on the lookout. “There you are,” Drusilla lunged underneath a table, pulling out a terrified looking boy, at most eight years old, clutching a half-finished sweet pastry of some kind. The boy squirmed, desperate to escape her icy grip, but the seeress was having none of that. “Look into my eyes...” She said, her voice low, but insistent. “Look into my eyes!” She demanded a second time.

The boy, his will far to week, had no choice, and he turned his head, eyes locked on hers.

“Good boy...” Her other hand reached down to stroke his cheek softly. “Where do the guards live, my dear, sweet, baby little boy?”

“In...in the barracks.” He said in a small, scared voice, even as her will demolished his completely.

“And where is the barracks?”

“...Other...other side of the castle.” His voice grew even weaker.

“Good boy...” she crooned, stroking his cheek again. “I could be your mummy, you know...”

“Dru, we can't turn a brat. Feed on him and let's go, before Darla decides to rip my ear off.” Spike demanded.

“Spike-y is afraid of grand-mummy being cross...” Drusilla said, as if to the air, ignoring Spike's 'Oi!'. Without any segue, her true face appeared, and within a second, her teeth sinking into the boy's neck. With a single whimper, the boy faded, first into unconsciousness, then death, as the very essence of his life faded away into Drusilla's mouth, running into her throat, being consumed by the demonic energies that animated and sustained her long-dead body. He was so small that it didn't take her long. Within a minute, his body was a bloodless husk, and she stood, dropping it to the ground without ceremony.

“Dru, you got a spot of blood on your lip.” Spike said, coming in and giving her a brutal kiss, crushing his lips to hers, licking away the blood. He pulled back, a smirk on his face. “Ready to kill, then, love?”

“Always.” Drusilla replied. With another smirk, Spike took her hand and they fairly swooped out of the kitchen, moving far quicker than any human ever could, on a direct course for the guard barracks. And on a direct line course for the last, desperate group of the House Chase Guard, led by on Xander Harris.

_Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

Darla had only stayed to watch where Spike and Drusilla had disappeared over the walls for a few moments, before turning away, ignoring the pained, whimpering moans of her mutilated minion. _Once we have eliminated the Guard, we shall make this castle our base. Our refuge during the light of the cursed sun._ Darla recalled the passages of the Pergamum Codex. The sun would not remain a cursed threat as the return of the Master became imminent...not over this place, the place that the Master had been sealed away, and would rise again. Not, the Prophecies of Aurelius promised, over the place known by some as the maw of fire.

Or, more accurately...The Hellmouth.

_Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

In retrospect, Xander realized that they'd walked right into it. Right into this attack.

Himself, Devon, and three other guards, in their hurry to get to Amy Madison, and thus some semblance of a chance at survival through this incoming hell, had abandoned all stealth. Though, Xander had reasoned at the time – and still believed – against the superior senses of a vampire, stealth was kind of irrelevant.

The first awareness any of them had of the immediate presence of more vampires was an animalistic growl, and the sound of Devon's neck snapping. It was all too fast for any of them to see what had happened in-between, for it to register inside their minds.

But now, in the split second of crisis decision, where time seemed to slow down...Xander got a good look at the attackers.

There were only two, one male, one female. The man was tall, and even more pale than most vampires – or well, at least, the other four he'd actually seen in his life – were. _Then again, its not as if any vampire has any business_ _ **not**_ _being pale, when you get right down to it._ His blonde hair was slicked back, carefully held down in a style like none Xander had ever seen before. He carried no weapon – not that he needed one – and wore a long – down to the floor, almost – black leather coat. The face was the true face, the face of the demon, so it was said.

The woman wasn't as tall as the man, but to call her short would be inaccurate. She could have been considered pretty, but she was a little too thin, waif-like. Almost like a doll – she looked...fragile, almost. The black dress she wore wasn't quite see through, but it was thin enough to be considered – ay least arguably – indecent....what bothered him the most, of all things, was her fingernails. They were sharp...like the claws of some animal. Her black hair was long, and unlike her male counterpart, she didn't wear her true, demonic face.

And then, the split second was over, and the world exploded into sound and motion. With an incoherent battle-cry, the guards rushed _en-masse_ at the vampires, hoping to overwhelm them. Xander thrust at the blonde one with his torch, but the vampire seemed to be regard that as a minor nuisance. With the ease of an experienced fighter, he locked Xander's arm in a vice-grip. Without any ceremony or warning, he twisted, and despite himself, Xander screamed as pain ripped through him, spinning up his arm like fire. The torch dropped to the ground, landing on the foot of one of the other guards. That guard managed to avoid completely catching aflame...not that it helped him any.

His motion to get away from the torch had brought him too close to the black haired woman, who lashed out with her claw-like fingernails and opened his neck. The guard's hand instinctively went up to the wound, as he fell to the ground, unable to make any noises in pain. And as Xander watched this, horrified, the vampire still holding his shattered arm, threw him bodily into the wall. Xander threw out his good arm, catching into the vampire's coat and actually successfully pulled the undead man along with him into the wall, but Xander felt the wind leave him completely as he crashed back-on into the wall, even more pain burning through him. The vampire, while momentarily stunned by the impact, seemed unharmed.

“Not bad, Droopy Boy.” The vampire drawled within seconds. “But not good enough.” With a snarl, he lunged for Xander's neck, and no amount of struggling seemed to be able to stop him. Then-

One second, the vampire's teeth were almost to his neck, the next he was hissing in pain, back arched, releasing his grip on Xander, as the guard standing behind him sliced at the vampire's back. The other two guards, between them, were managing to keep the woman at sword's length, though only just.

Xander, the vampire still somewhat pinning down distracted, even if for a moment, nodded ever so lightly at the dagger on his fellow guardsman's belt.

Pausing just long enough from his attacks on the vampire's back, the guard removed the sheathed weapon and tossed it Xander. This, in turn, freed the vampire's ability to act enough for him to get up and lunge at his attacker. But before he could do any damage, Xander, displaying the true tenaciousness of humanity, stabbed the dagger into the vampire's foot, pulling out and stabbing the other foot even as the creature thrashed.

“You bloody gits!” The vampire said, catching the still standing guard on the cheek with a fist. Unintentionally, the force of the blow was so great as to send his victim's head twisting too far to the side, and with a sickening crack, he slumped to the ground dead. Xander felt horror overcoming him, mixing with his pain as bile rose in his throat. Desperately, he got to his knees and lashed out at the vampire again, cutting the tendons on the back of one knee, then the other.

_How fast do vampires fucking heal?_ He questioned desperately, struggling to his feet, unwilling to free up one hand by putting down his dagger, and unable to use his other hand, the arm broken. Still, he managed, with some difficulty, to stand, even as the male vampire still was on his knees.

“Spike!” the woman cried out, breaking past the two guardsman riding herd on her, acquiring cuts on her arms, diving towards the other vampire. She crouched next to him, then looked up at Xander, who was hastily backing away. “You nasty, wretched boy! You hurt my Spike!” She stood.

“Run!” Xander shouted, and he joined his fellow guards racing as fast as they could – which was far slower than they liked, especially for Xander, who had suffered several injuries now, and was exhausted, only functioning due to pure adrenaline, which was itself running out...his legs burned, his arm screamed out at him....still, he ran.

“ _Kaliskaras Sheltresk Excaliar! Goddess Hecate, heed my call!_ ” Xander barely registered the words of the spell, in Amy's voice, but even in his numbed state, he registered the effects of it. A massive wall of fire, reaching almost up to the ceiling – formed behind the three running guards, blocking the female vampire's pursuit of them.

“Petty magics won't protect you forever, you wretched boy!” She shouted at him.

“But they'll do for now, blood bitch!” Amy shouted back. Then, “Follow me. Hurry. That spell really won't last long. We need to get behind a threshold. Now.”

**Next time, on Red Moon Rises:** _Wesley, Gunn and Fred have arrived back at Giles' tower, with Lilah Morgan, Agent of the Black Thorn in tow. Can the Pergamum Codex provide them with enough information to prevent the oncoming apocalypse?_


	7. Delivery, Discussion, Departure

  **Disclaimer:** I absolutely do not own Buffy. I absolutely do not own Angel. Move along now, FBI Agents. There's no copyright infringement here. 

**Author's Note:** After three fairly action-heavy chapters, we're looking at a major decompression/information/dialogue chapter. Also, Buffy/Angel/Faith won't be arriving until probably chapter 9. They need to travel the three days from the Temple to Sunnydale Town, remember, and there's nothing to tell about their trip that warrants a separate chapter.

Thanks to Starway Man for beta-reading this chapter.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 7: Delivery, Discussion, Departure

**20 to 25 Days until the Red Moon**

_The City Gates & The Tower of Rupert Giles_

_Free City of Kayden, Kingdom of Arenso_

The trip back to Giles' tower took just about as much time as the trip to the castle, give or take perhaps an hour. Wesley had spent most of that time occupied with his own thoughts, which was hardly an uncommon state of affairs for him to be in...but usually not quite to the degree he had been, on this particular outing.

Dominating Wesley's thoughts was the Pergamum Codex, and the potential impending apocalypse he, Gunn and Fred has seized the book in order to prevent. He'd made an attempt to translate the so-called 'holy' text during the journey home, but he'd faced...difficulties in doing so.

First and foremost, Wes had failed even to identify the language in which the text was written. Some words and grammatical constructions were similar to one set of languages, but others were similar to a completely different set, and yet more had no connection to any languages he knew – and Wesley knew several dozen of them. Granted, the ex-Watcher could make out bits and pieces – a word here and there, even the occasional phrase – but as a whole, the book was just so many chicken scratches. And without the reference materials he kept in his house – or more likely, the ones in Giles' tower – that was what the text would remain.

“I hope this thing really does help with the world saving.” Gunn remarked as the walls of Kayden loomed above them. “Otherwise, we just wasted four days on a useless trip – and we don't have that many days to work with, if Giles is right.”

“Don't worry about that, Mr. Gunn,” Lilah remarked coolly. “The Pergamum Codex will be a great deal of help in the whole 'world saving' thing, as you so charmingly put it. Because as both Wesley and Giles will freely tell you, information is power. And, even if it somehow, inconceivably, is of no help whatsoever, you didn't waste four days on _nothing._ After all, you have me in your little group now.”

“Apart from one dispatched vampire, you've not brought that much to the table in the way of helping us in this endeavor.” Wesley replied, the temperature of his own voice as low as Lilah's – if not lower. “And while we're on the subject of you and help, actually, you've yet to share that information you promised us back in the castle. You remember; that “useful” information you promised us, so I wouldn't just stab you and leave your body in that basement to rot?”

Lilah ignored the thinly veiled threat. “Oh, come now Wes. You know I can't tell you yet. You can't seriously want me to ruin the surprise, can you?”

“Of course I can.” Wesley replied flatly. “I hate surprises.” 

Lilah just made a face and then smiled at Wesley sweetly. Gunn and Fred exchanged a look, and just shook their heads over how the brunette woman was trying to 'play' them like this. Silence then overtook the group as they reached the city gates about a minute later, and Fred approached the two guards flanking the doorway.

“Four farthings for the lot of you.” One of them said. They had arrived, unfortunately, too late to be able to just waltz right into the city through the gates for free. Despite not being fond of wasting money on things like gate tolls, Fred was also not interested in spending the night camping outside the walls of Kayden. At the very least, it would cost them – and Giles – valuable hours with the Codex.

“That's highway robbery, and you know it.” The inventor told the guard irately, even as she opened her coin purse and began to dig through it to withdraw the coins she needed.

“I don't know any such thing.” The guard replied with a straight face, one hand outstretched. “What I do know is that the Lord Mayor has decreed a one farthing per person toll for entry into the city after sunset.” Scowling, Fred handed the guard four small copper coins. Checking them carefully in the light of the torch ensconced on the wall behind him for a moment, he finally nodded. “Alright.” He turned and shouted up to the wall top. “Open the gate!” Slowly, creaking and groaning agonizingly, the city gates opened inwards, and the four travelers walked into the city.

The streets of Kayden were not _completely_ empty at night – no city of any respectable size ever had anything close to empty streets, even at the darkest hours of the night. Streetwalkers, tavern goers, the occasional criminal and more shared the night. There might even be the odd vampire, but as a general rule, vampires had learned to not stay long in Kayden – it had a disproportionate share of effective hunters, beyond just even Wesley, Giles – who admittedly didn't go in for field work anymore – Gunn and Fred. Indeed, Giles had played mentor to a number of hunters who operated out of the city and its environs, over the years, though he was closest with Wesley, and through Wesley, Gunn and Fred.

_Odd how attempted murder can forge a bond of strong friendship._ He mused as they made the final approach to the tower. 

Wesley's doubts about Giles' supposed crimes had already been brewing within him for a month by the time he finally reached Kayden. Nonetheless his attempt to kill Giles though, had been a concerted, committed effort – and laughably inadequate, in all reality. It was far more surprising that his fellow Britillian hadn't killed him, rather than keep him alive, and stoke those doubts by telling him the truth of what had happened. A week later, he'd sent a letter back to Travers essentially telling the man to shove the mission up his ass, and been promptly exiled out of the Watchers – fired.

There'd only been one subsequent attempt on Giles' life since then – on both of their lives, really – in the intervening years. One might have expected more, but the Council's killers had seemed to have other priorities. Certainly, Wesley doubted Travers had given up on eliminating the threat Rupert Giles posed, but the old man had obviously had other concerns and Quentin was most likely concentrating on them before taking care of old business.

Gunn knocked on the door, and within roughly a minute, the tower door had opened and Giles ushered them in. Rupert raised an eyebrow when he saw Lilah enter.

“Giles,” Wesley said, “This is Lilah Morgan, agent of evil and general bitch. Lilah, this is Rupert Giles, a fellow former Watcher.”

Lilah chuckled. “Oh, I know who he is, Wesley. His reputation precedes him among the circles I normally operate in. As do all of yours, really,” she said to the other three.

“Interesting to know that I'm well-known in evil circles.” Giles said dryly. “I take it this is the Lilah who once tried to kill you?” He asked Wesley.

“The very same.” The younger man replied. “She claims she has useful information. She's yet to deliver on that front.”

“That's because I intend to give the information to you when you need it, and not before. On account of I intend to be there at the end, and not get stabbed beforehand because you think I'm no use to you anymore,” Lilah said firmly. “Besides, Wes, you can trust me with this little endeavor. Back then, when I tried to kill you over that rare tome, it was nothing personal; just business. Right now, we're faced with the potential end of the world. Since I live here too, you can trust me to help you prevent it.”

“Trust.” Fred said. “You keep using that word – a lot. But I'm getting the impression it doesn't mean what you think it means. Whatever your reasons, you tried to kill Wesley. If you can't grasp why we have trust issues because of that that, then I think you need to reacquaint yourself with the meaning of the word 'trust'.” 

Wesley couldn't help but smirk at that, even as Lilah openly sneered at the shorter woman. "Well said, Fred."

Giles opened the book and lit a candle with a murmured word. He turned the pages a few times, frowning. “It is going to take some time for me to extract any useful information from this. I suggest you all get some rest. I'll send word to you when I have something. You might use the time to get ready for travel. While I have no idea exactly what must be done to prevent the Master rising, I am confident that we can't prevent it from here, in Kayden. We'll need to be, at the very least,  _ near _ where he was sealed away; that is where he will rise again. I did some research and it seems that there is a small town and lordship, both named Sunnydale, in the vicinity. It will serve as a convenient base, I suppose...” 

Then a nasty thought occurred to Giles.  _ If Aurelian vampires are going to be flocking to the site where their leader has been sealed away for around six-hundred years...then they're also going to see this...Sunnydale Town as a convenient base of operations...and a convenient food source. _

Giles considered his options: he could send a warning to the local lord, but there wasn't exactly much of a point. It would hardly reach in time to be of any relevance, and he'd already sent word to the Daughters of Sineya, and their temple in the Agaden Forest, where he'd sent the warning, was close enough to Sunnydale to have their people reach it in only a few days. Indeed, they might have already sent a team there, assuming his messages had arrived when he expected they had; and if Giles knew the Daughters at all, they had reacted fairly quickly to a threat of this magnitude. He shook his head a little, then looked back at his four guests.

“Thank you. I'll send word when I have something useable.” He repeated his earlier promise. Dismissed, the four of them left, and Giles set the Codex on his table. “Now...where did I put that folio?” He murmured as the others walked out the door.

Saying a brief goodbye to Wesley, Gunn and Fred quickly departed for their own home within moments of departing from the Tower. Looking delighted that they were alone at last, Lilah turned to Wes and purred, “So. I can't  _ wait _ to see your place.” She stood behind him and leaned in close, her lips near his neck, her breath whispering along it as Lilah spoke in a low, soft voice. “Tell me, is your bed as big as the one-” But Wesley immediately stepped away, putting some distance between them.

“ _You're_ not coming to my home now or ever,” the man said firmly, ignoring his body's reaction to Lilah's words and actions. “I can hardly trust you there, and I'm not letting you come anywhere near the books Ikeep there, either.” Wes reached into his coin-purse and pulled out a few silver coins, which he tossed at Lilah; who caught them deftly. “There's an inn just down the way there.” He pointed. “That should suffice regarding a room for the night. You can pay me back later.”

Lilah straightened up. “And when you say 'pay you back later', are we talking money...or payment in kind?” She smirked at the Britillian's facial expression. “Oh come  _ on _ , Wesley! We both know what you  _ really _ want. Why deny yourself what I'm offering freely?” Lilah came closer, the smile vanishing from her face. "Trust me, lover; spending the night with me is something you'll never,  _ ever _ , forget, no matter how many other women touch your body in the future."

“ I don't doubt it. I also don't doubt that I'd regret allowing you into my bed sooner rather than later, and that's assuming that I lived to wake up the next morning. Let's be clear on this, Lilah: what I want is a good night's sleep, with as much distance between myself and you as is practicably possible.” Wesley told the dark-haired woman firmly.

Lilah's smirk returned, and she chuckled a little. “Alright then. Whatever you say, handsome...for now, anyway.” She turned in the direction Wesley had indicated and headed towards the inn, leaving the former Watcher behind. Wesley watched her depart for a moment, then turned and headed home.

**18 to 23 Days until the Red Moon**

_The Tower of Rupert Giles_

_Free City of Kayden, Kingdom of Arenso_

It had taken him the better part of two days to accomplish, but finally, he had something. Giles drummed his fingers against the cover of the Codex as he waited by the door. A few moments passed before he heard the knock, and so Giles opened up, quickly ushering his four guests inside.

“Come along.” He led them up the stairs and onto the second floor. He went over to the central table and picked up several loose sheets of parchment, sorting through the notes he'd made while translating, then turning back to the others.

“While there are still vast portions of the Codex I’ve yet to translate, I believe I've managed to glean the essential parts of what we need to know for this endeavor.” He started. “First of all, the place of power, or thing, that The Master tried to use, the first time around, was not, as I translated, the 'Maw of Fire', but rather, the 'Mouth of Hell' or 'Hellmouth'. Having consulted some rather obscure books on the subject, from what I can gather, a 'Hellmouth' is a nexus of dark energies, where the barriers between this dimension and one or more hell dimensions are extremely thin. Furthermore, there is something about the power put out by a Hellmouth that tends to attract vampires, demons, dark cultists, and the like. The Hellmouth at issue here, in what is now the Lordship of Sunnydale, was apparently quite active and rather dangerous, which is why there was little to no habitation in that area when the Master set up final shop there.”

He turned to another page of his notes. “His plan, if I'm cross-referencing this particular prophecy of Aurelius with the historical record properly, was to use the Hellmouth to break through the thinned barriers completely, and bring to this world one of the Old Ones. Which apparently, and by all that's good and holy I pray I'm not translating this correctly, resides _inside_ the Hellmouth itself. When his attempt failed and he was sealed away by the Daughters of Sineya and their allies, the mystical backlash of the interrupted ritual rendered the Hellmouth dormant. Over the centuries, I assume, people forgot it was there, and eventually, the Lordship of Sunnydale was set up on top of it.”

“I'm guess we really don't want this 'Old One' showing up?” Gunn asked. While far from stupid, and an experienced demon and vampire hunter, Charles Gunn, Giles thought, was not well versed in the obscure information and lost secrets that underlay the work he did – hardly a personal failing, as he was simply not brought up among such knowledge. 

“No, we really don't.” Giles agreed. “An Old One is theoretically invincible, and certainly not something we – or even the Daughters of Sineya – are even remotely capable of handling. But that isn't really the direct issue at hand here. If the Master gets that far, we're doomed as a matter of course.”

He shook his head. “No, what we need to do is prevent the Master's release in the first place. And I believe, from my research, that I've determined a great deal about the specific circumstances that will accompany said release, in addition to the coming of the Red Moon.”

"Well?" Lilah demanded impatiently, as Giles shuffled through his notes.

Rupert ignored her rude interruption. “From what I gather, it isn't the Red Moon itself breaks the spell sealing the Master away, but rather the fact that the Red Moon had great theological significance to Aurelius and his cult. He believed that the Red Moon was the work of Amarra, God of Vampires; manifesting as a symbol to his children of his presence. Still, whatever the reason, several key rituals of the Order of Aurelius call for the presence of the Red Moon, and the rather significant mystical energy its presence creates. Including the one I believe will be used for releasing the Master.”

“Rather than destroying the seal, or overcoming the spell itself,” Giles went on, “I suspect the Aurelian vampires intend to free their leader by using a more...straightforward approach. There is a ritual that, in essence, strengthens the link between sire and childe, to the point where one can psychically transfer power to the other. In this case, the childe to the sire. There are some rather large bloodletting requirements, of course, but I doubt that will be too much of a problem for the undead.”

“So, you're saying they _need_ one of the Master's children for this ritual to work. Could they do it with a more...distant relative?” Fred asked.

“Theoretically, but _only_ theoretically.” Giles replied with a frown. “The bond grows weaker with each succeeding 'generation', as it were. The amount of blood and power would grow rather exponentially, and indeed, even with the Red Moon, I don't think even a grandchilde of the Master would be enough.” He continued, “What this means, then, is that if we can ensure none of his children perform this ritual during the night the Red Moon is in the sky-”

“Then we can prevent the Master bringing about Armageddon,” Gunn finished off the sentence, already focusing on practicalities. “So how many kids does this monster have?”

“Before his imprisonment, several dozen. After the final battle, from what I can gather, only two of them survived, and they now lead competing branches of the Cult. One named Darla, and another named Luke.” He dug through the pile on the table a moment, then retrieved an open book from underneath several others. One page had a sketch of a woman, the other, a man. He handed it to Wesley, who showed the others. “That is supposedly what both children look like, respectively.”

“So...we need to kill them both then.” Wesley said. “Where are they?”

“You mean right now? I have no idea. But I know where they will be. But they will both be where the Master was sealed away to perform the ritual on the night the Red Moon rises. I haven't pinpointed exactly where that is – the historical record is damnably vague - but it will be in the vicinity of the Hellmouth, and Sunnydale Town. I need to do more research, but the general object is clear, then. You four need to get down to the Hellmouth and ensure that both Darla and Luke are destroyed, or are otherwise rendered incapable of performing the ritual.” He opened a small wooden box and withdrew a small crystal sphere, which he passed to Wesley.

Lilah gasped a little in shock, and even Wesley seemed incredulous. “Is this...?”

“Yes.” Giles nodded. “Its a _Yherrin Crystal._ If you expect to arrive at the Hellmouth in time to accomplish anything meaningful, you'll need to leave today. You can't afford to wait the days on end it will take for me to glean specifics, regardless of how vital those specifics are. Hence the crystal. I can use it to contact you through a scrying mirror.”

Wesley nodded, then eyed Lilah suspiciously for a moment. “You wouldn't happen to have some way, short of killing her,”  _ Which continues to look like an attractive option _ , “that I could ensure she doesn't make an attempt to steal an artifact as rare and powerful as this?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Giles said frankly. “You may have to simply kill her, or anyone else who attempts to steal the crystal. Which would be a pity, of course, but also an acceptable loss in the face of the apocalypse. I'll leave that up to your judgment, Wesley.” His tone was completely factual – Rupert wasn't advocating the killing of Lilah, directly, but there was that undertone of menace in the older man's voice that indicated he was deadly serious in his advice to his younger protege.

“Let's get going,” Lilah said uncomfortably, doing her best to change the subject after seeing the way Wesley, Gunn and Fred were looking at her. “None of us will get to the Hellmouth by just standing around here, after all.”

**Next Time, on Red Moon Rises:** _ Even as Wesley, Lilah, Fred and Gunn make their way towards Sunnydale, Xander, Amy, Cordelia and the surviving guards find themselves, and all of Sunnydale, under seige from within, as an all too familiar face joins the vampires. _


	8. Holdout Point

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Buffy, or Angel.

Thanks to my Beta-reader, Starway Man

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 8: Holdout Point

**22 to 28 Days until the Red Moon**

_Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

When dawn finally broke over Sunnydale, the vampires were well-entrenched in the town. For, as long as the sun shone down from the sky, the vampires would be forced to stay away from its – to them – terrifying rays. Just as it had always been...

For the moment, Sunnydale Town had a respite from its newest residents. But that was all it was. A respite. And nowhere near long enough.

And the respite only really applied to the lower town. The castle, where the undead had decided to make their camp, had enough hallways without large windows, it had extensive basements, it had plenty of room for the undead to roam freely – especially when they'd spent the last few hours of the night, in the aftermath of the 'little debacle', boarding or otherwise covering up as many windows as they could.

There were, however, still those alive in the castle. A handful of the higher-status servants, who had rooms in the castle, were alive, terrified, hiding under their beds in most cases, cowering behind the thresholds of their rooms. The Lord and Lady Chase, as well as their daughter, a combination of fear and the instinctual arrogance of nobility keeping them going, for the moment. And, of course, Alexander Harris, Amy Madison, and the last surviving members of the House Chase Guard in Sunnydale. The last remnants of human life in the structure.

Darla stood next to a completely curtained window, smelling the pungent stench of burning human flesh. It always smelled like...pork, to her. No doubt why pig's blood was the kind Angelus drank, ever since the Daughters of Sineya gave him that filthy soul. Humans and pigs...they had a lot in common, from the way the smelled when they burned...to the way they acted, and where they fit in the food chain. Below something else, that ate them.

“Don't these stupid village dirt farmers know anything?” Spike asked, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against a nearby wall. “You don't need to burn a body just cause it was drained dry.” He scoffed. “Sodding idiots...”

“Idiots they may be, but didn't one of them best you in a fight?” Darla asked with an undisguised sneer.

“That bloody guard got lucky.” Spike insisted. His leg, though healed, still hurt somewhat. “He won't be so lucky next time. He's mine.” The vampire spoke those two works with a grim, dark intensity. “I catch anyone killin' him before I get the chance, and I'll rip their bleedin' heads off!”

"Spare me the attitude. It doesn't-" Darla started to say, then stopped and smirked. "Well, actually, the whole ‘posturing’ thing  _ does _ suit you. Just don't do it here. Leave; I have things to do." 

Spike clenched his fists, then scowled. With a slight swish of his long coat, he turned and walked out of the door into the hallway. Darla turned back to the window. Soon enough, the sun would be gone from the sky over Sunnydale, and she'd be able to enjoy her view uninterrupted by its rays.

Not that far away, a makeshift council of war, of sorts, was taking place.

“What the hell are we supposed to do?” One of the guards, having successfully made it to Amy's room last night. said, in an almost whining, pleading tone. “There's way too many vampires for us to just go and kill them all! We need to get out this castle, right now!” Xander grabbed the man by the arms and shook him, violently. 

“Just how stupid are you?!” He demanded. _No! Xander! Calm down, damnit!_ He tried to take a breath, but he just couldn't manage it. Everything...he was on edge, probably holding on by his fingernals at this point, and he knew it. The events of the night before had left him running on adrenaline, and it was still coursing through him, at this point. But the human body wasn't really made to handle that much all together, for so long. It was really starting to affect him. _Calm down, calm down, calm down..._

He took a breath. “There's no getting to the doors without running into more of those things, and even if we do, what then?” He shook the guard again, demanding an answer. “Those things will just come back out tonight and pick up where they left off! And even if we and everyone else stays inside, behind a threshold, they'll still be running this place. And I admit, I don't know much about vampires, or how thresholds work, but I'm guessing the threshold doesn't matter much if the house gets burnt down.” He looked to Amy. “Am I right?”

“You are.” The witch said, opening drawers – and lifting false bottoms – while retrieving various magical components. 

“See?” Xander said. He let go of the guard, then shoved him back with a hard push to the chest. “Look, I'm no more interested in dying for Lord Chase than any one else. He can get fed on and a vampire can choke to death on his blood, for all I care. But hell if I'm going to just abandon the rest of the town to those things. Those people are our friends and family, and most of them don't even have the _slightest_ chance of even taking on one vampire and surviving. We have that chance – alright, not much of one, I'll grant you, but its better than nothing. We're armed, we have some combat training, and we're in a position to _do_ something. And so help me, we're _going_ to do something!” 

“I hate to rain on your gung-ho parade, Xander.” Amy interrupted, smirking, “But what exactly is this 'something' you're proposing we do? There are a lot of vampires out there, and sure, I can torch quite a number of them, but if there's one thing they have going for them, its numbers. And no doubt they'll be getting more. So you need some kind of plan. I'm certainly not going out to risk my life just plain 'killing vampires' without a plan, and I'm the most powerful one here. And unlike all of you, I _am_ more than willing to just abandon the town and leave.” 

Amy just shrugged at all the looks that last statement provoked. "What? Remember, this is all just a job for me. So as long as I get paid for my services, I'll stick around – at least until it becomes  _ too _ dangerous for me to hang around any longer."

Unfortunately, Xander believed her. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leaned down, sitting on the edge of the windowsill.

“You got nothing, don't you?” Amy said, smugly. “I rest my case. You need to think about these things, before you start speechifying Xander.” 

It didn't take long for Xander to come up with something, though. “They've covered up windows. And they've got people pinned in, if there are any other survivors in here, behind thresholds. Let's uncover those windows. Use the sunlight as a weapon.”

The same guard as before seemed about to protest, but the other guard put a hand on the first's chest, stopping him from talking. “Not a bad idea, Xander, but what about longer-term? That's not really going to do much about all this,” he gestured widely with one hand.

“I know.” Xander seemed unfazed. “Okay, look, when Lord Chase heard about vampires in Bronzeton – these vampires, no doubt – he sent word to the Agaden Temple to ask for Slayer help in dealing with them. The messenger should get there in two days, and then it will take any response three days to get here. To get to Bronzeton from the Agaden Temple, they'll have to pass through here, and find out what is happening. So if we can survive until then...”

“Hold out five days in a town and castle completely infested by vampires?” The first guard said. “Oh, that's _so_ doable.”

“He has a point,” The second one said. “But, really, as true as that fact may be, Xander's also got the right of it. I'm certainly not just going to run away.” He picked up his sword from where it had been lying on the ground. “I'm ready to kill some vampires.”

“Let's try to avoid meeting them.” Amy said with a smirk. “And let the windows we uncover do the heavy lifting in the vampire death department, hmm?”

One floor above them, another council of war was taking place. Just...not a very good one.

“Mom, Dad, think for a moment!” Cordelia was insisting, trying to stop her parents from leaving the room. “There's vampires all over the castle! You can't just walk out into the hallway like nothing's happened!”

“Its daylight, Cordelia. The vampires will be sleeping.” Her father said. “We'll be in no real danger.”

“We can't stay in the castle, dear” Her mother added. “But we can hardly leave the entire treasury here in the castle to those vampires either.”

“Vampires don't _sleep_ during the day, Dad!” Cordelia tried to control her exasperation, ignoring the stupidity of her mother's statement. “They just don't go out in the sun – because, you know, it _kills_ them. But the treasury is in the _basement._ You know, underground, in the dark, with no windows?”

“And since when did you become an expert on vampires, Cordelia?” Her father demanded skeptically. 

_ Ever since I was better educated than you, apparently _ . Cordelia managed to filter that thought away from her mouth, for a change. “Because I've been talking to Amy. You know, the witch? Who was trained by that Coven that works with the Slayers? You'd think she'd know.”

“Cordelia, that's enough we're going to be fine.” Her mother said regally, as if that was the end of the matter – as if she could create reality simply by fiat.

_ No, you’re going to  _ _**die** _ _! Damn it, why won't you believe me!? _ _ Why won’t you listen to your own daughter?  _ While normally she would just shut up and later take out her frustrations on the servants, this time Cordelia couldn't – or wouldn't, perhaps – stop herself from vocalizing her thoughts. "You're going to get yourselves  _ killed _  if you go out there! Please, don't!"

Her father shook his head pityingly. “Cordelia, what happened last night was a traumatic experience, I understand. But we're going to be  _ fine. _ ” He stressed that last word, “Look, it if will make you feel any better, we'll take a holy symbol with us.” He went over to his wife's jewelry box, and dug out a golden necklace with a small solar disk on it. The symbol of Adun, the sun god, chief deity of the Kingdom. “See?” 

"Are you sure you won’t come as well, dear?" Lady Chase asked her daughter one last time.

"No." Cordelia had a strange expression on her face as she said that. She then turned away, unwilling to look at her parents anymore. "Goodbye, Mother. You too, Father. I love you both – and I’ll miss you, in the years to come."

Not waiting for another response, or else more odd commentary from their intransigent offspring, Lord and Lady Chase subsequently opened the door and walked out of the room – across the threshold.

“I think there's something wrong with our daughter.” Lord Chase commented to his wife as the walked towards the stairs, quickly, but purposefully. “Cordelia was very nearly hysterical, back there.” They reached the stairs, David in front, Miriam behind. 

Lady Miriam Chase just waved her hand dismissively, “She's fine, David. She just needs some time to calm down. Its hardly surprising she'd be like that, given what happened. There's nothing  _ wrong _ with her.”

“If you say so.” David Chase didn't seem interested in conceding the point, but also wasn't interested in arguing it. “Alright, so we head down, take everything we can from the treasury, and get out of the castle. As you said, its hardly safe for us in here anymore.”

“And where do we go from there? We can hardly stick around in the lower town – we couldn't, even if there weren't vampires there too.” Her expression was one of disgust, just at the very idea.

“We'll have to go to the Baron, get his help. Or at least ride this crisis out until the Slayers deal with this...infestation. Then we can get back here and things can assume their natural order. But first-” He cut himself off suddenly, hearing a rustle nearby, farther down the stairs.

“Naughty, naughty.” A soft, almost childlike voice said behind them. “Grandmummy didn't say you could leave her party.” A pale, black haired woman stepped into view, her nails long and sharp enough to almost look like claws. “And yet...here you are, trying to leave. Miss Edith told me you were going to try to leave Grandmummy's party...” Drusilla lunged at Lord Chase, her nails opening his jugular vein. Even before the body hit the ground, though, the vampire had donned her true face and was drinking the dying man's bloody from the fresh wound. Miriam was screaming before her brain truly registered what she was seeing, too struck with shock to even think about running.

Xander Harris had never once heard Lady Miriam Chase scream. But she did have a fairly distinctive voice, and he'd heard her yell at servants as often as Cordelia had. They were already on the stairs – he and Amy had been about to go downstairs and uncover some more windows, the other two guards staying behind in the room – and it was simply a redirect of direction to head for the source of the noise. Xander saw the vampire woman from before.

“You!” Xander shouted, lunging at her with his sword. 

Drusilla threw David Chase's dead, half-drained body at Xander, knocking him to the floor, held down by the dead weight. “Nasty white knight!” She batted at the air, as if swatting a fly, then grabbed at Miriam, aiming to open her throat as well.

_ Why am I doing this? _  Amy asked herself, after all; her employer was now dead and she no longer had any real stake in this fight. Then, with a mental shrug, she mustered her magical power, throwing a fireball at Drusilla.

But the Seer-Vampire was too good to just let herself get dusted by one fireball. She moved to avoid it, her hand moving from its trajectory in the process. Drusilla still hit Miriam in the neck, but, not on a vein or artery.

Lady Chase let out a cry of pain. The noblewoman was bleeding in a way that wasn't conducive to long term health. Miriam Chase clapped a hand to the cut on instinct as she fell to the ground, shock overcoming her.

Xander shoved Lord Chase's dead body off himself and jumped to his feet. Amy threw more fireballs at Drusilla, but the vampire kept avoiding them, chattering insanely, about kittens, white knights, stars, a 'Miss Edith' and, of course, 'Grandmummy's Party'.

_ Enough! _ Xander dove at the psychotic vampire, aiming his sword at her feet – she jumped over him, almost skating a little across his back and knocking him to the floor again. Then Drusilla ran at Amy, “Nasty little witch!”, but the young woman wasn't possessed of just one trick. She muttered a quiet word, and then opened a clenched fist. 

For a split second, it was as if Adun himself was present, blinding light pouring over them. Drusilla screamed and pushed past Amy, stumbling down the hallway, her body smoking a little.

Amy ran over to a temporarily blinded Xander. “Get up, idiot!” She demanded.

“What the hell was that?!” The guardsman demanded as he did so.

"Pocket full of sunshine, or at least that’s what my old Coven associates used to call it," Amy said. "It takes a lot of time to make one. And I didn't even make it! Took it with me when I left those doddering old fools, so don't expect me to ever pull something like that again. Now let's go! Grab Lady Chase, and we should probably collect Cordelia, too, while we’re at it...

"One or the other of them will have to pay me, before all this is over."

**Next time, on Dead Man Walking:** _ Buffy, Faith, and Angel arrive in a town under siege. Can they drive the undead out of Sunnydale Castle? _


	9. Two Slayers and a Vampire Walk into a Town...

**Disclaimer:** Not mine

Thanks to Starway Man, my beta, for helping me with this. Especially this chapter, and the writers block I had.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 9: Two Slayers and a Vampire Walk into a Town...

**21 to 27 days until the Red Moon**

_Sunnydale Town,_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

The trip from the Agaden Temple to the town of Sunnydale could have been managed, most likely, in about two days by Buffy and Faith alone, give or take. Between their enhanced speed and endurance, as well as their ability to go longer stretches of time on less sleep than most people, the distance, normally a good three-days travel...well, they could have done it noticeably faster alone.

Unfortunately, though, thanks to the third member of their party, the Slayers didn't have the luxury of traveling all day and then part of the night. Not unless they wanted to leave Angel behind, that is. Because ensouled though he might be, Angel still had all the weaknesses of the undead, as well as their strengths. Including that  _ annoying _  vulnerability to rays of the sun's light. Sineyan religious doctrine decreed that said vulnerability was due to the purifying powers of the sun god Adun, purging corruption from the world in the form of the vampire...

Personally, though, Angel was a little skeptical of that, as well as all religion in general. But he had to acknowledge that holy symbols and icons did have the power to harm and repel him and other vampires, which did speak of some kind of higher power behind religion in the strictest sense. Whether that was the Creator itself or something else, no one could say for certain; indeed, most people chose not to inquire too closely about the subject, as it involved acknowledging that they were mostly ignorant about whether the Creator of All Things actually existed.

Of course, Angel didn't mention his skepticism where the Daughters of Sineya or those aligned with them could hear. Some, such as Faith, didn't take the religious aspect of their training, and duty, all that seriously. Of course, as one of the more successful Slayers in the Order, Faith could get away with blatant irreverence a lot more than easily than, say, her novice sisters. Others, such as Buffy, took such teachings more to heart, although compared to some – such as one of the oldest of the Daughters, Nikki Wood – she was almost as irreverent as Faith.

Still - whatever the reason behind vampiric vulnerability to sunlight, the unavoidable fact of that vulnerability's existence had limited the trio to traveling just during nighttime. Which was why it had taken them three days to get to Sunnydale Town. And as the Slayers strolled into town Angel silently stared off towards the horizon, he could tell that there was only about three hours left before dawn.

“Okay, I know most people sleeping during the night, rather than, you know, hunt demons and vampires.” Faith started. “But is it just me, or does this town seem...” her voice trailed off a moment. “Well...I mean, even this late, shouldn't there be a little activity? A few people moving around, at least?”

Angel looked around. “Not necessarily. I've been in towns that are this...dead at night, before.”

“Let's hope those words aren't more apt than they seem.” Buffy said, concentrating on the task at hand.

“Oh, they're apt.” Came a voice from their left. A black robed vampire, leading four others, was coming down the main street towards them. All five of them wore their demon faces. They drew up short some twenty feet away from the heroic trio, and Angel noticed the two Daughters instantly switch into combat mode. He knew Buffy and Faith well enough by now to comprehend when something mind-numbingly violent was about to happen...

“I must say,” The black robed vampire continued. “You are the last person I expected to see, Angelus. How long as it been, a century?”

“A little more.” Angel said, shaking his head slightly. “I'll be honest. I didn't really expect to see you again either, Sybold. I'd have figured that Darla would have killed you by now...if I'd given you any thought at all.”

“Ah-ha, ah-ha, ah-ha.” Sybold replied flatly. “You're so funny. See? This is me laughing. This is my amused face.” The soulless vampire pointed to his face. It was utterly devoid of any sign of mirth.

“Angel?” Buffy asked, pulling a stake from her belt. Like Faith, she also had a sword, but for some reason, Angel knew, she'd always preferred killing vampires with a sharp piece of wood, rather than with a steel blade. Angel also knew that she had no good explanation for it – using a sword to cut their heads off was easier, and even a little less risky, usually – but there it was. He had once heard her say in passing that using a stake was the way that vampire slaying was 'supposed to be done', but that was it.

Faith, with her usual...unique...perspective, had once claimed that her fellow Slayer's choice of weaponry was basically because Buffy 'liked to feel wood in her hand, late at nights.' Needless to say, the blushing Buffy had glared furiously at Faith for that and avoided meeting Angel's gaze for days afterward.

Back to the matter at hand. “Angel?” Buffy repeated. “Why are we just standing here chatting with them? Shouldn't we be...you know...dusting these things?”

“Oh, you are _just too cute_!” Sybold smiled. “Who are your friends, Angelus? You know its not nice to not share.”

“His friends can speak for themselves.” Buffy cut in. “My name is Buffy.”

This time, Sybold threw his head back and laughed for real. He kept laughing for several minutes. “You really  _ are _ too cute!” He laughed some more. If he had still been possessed of a pair of functioning lungs, he'd have been out of breath by the time he was done laughing. “Seriously though, your name is Buffy?” He looked at Angel again.  She's joking, right? She must be. Because no mother in her right mind could ever possibly name their daughter something so completely stupid as  _ Buffy _ !”

“You're gonna be sorry for saying that about Joyce, dead thing,” Faith said, swinging her sword idly, as if experimentally. She glanced briefly at Buffy's infuriated face and added, “Still, I keep telling her she should change it. I mean, whoever heard of a Slayer with a name like that?”

“Slayer? You're hanging out with Slayers now Angelus?” Sybold's face abruptly lost all traces of amusement.

“You did hear about how the Daughters of Sineya gave me a soul?” Angel shrugged. "As I recall, it was big news at the time."

“Yes, but I couldn't force myself to believe that it had truly happened. That it  _could_  happen. Despite personal feelings, the legend that was Darla's favorite childe deserved better than that, to be honest with you. Wishful thinking on my part, I suppose.”

“Where is Darla?” Angel demanded. “And when exactly is the Red Moon coming then?”

“Wouldn't you like to know the answer to both?” Sybold replied. “But I'm not really in the mood to talk any more. Fuck it. Knife.”

“Knif-” Angel was cut off by the three-inch long blade embedding itself in his neck. Still, he had managed to move so that he avoided decapitation, which was what the enemy vamp had been aiming for; and looking disgusted, Sybold backhanded his minion away with a hard slap to the face. "You incompetent fool!"

“Hey, Asshole!” Faith said, raising her sword. Sybold looked towards her, unable to help himself.

“Made you look. Stake.” Buffy said, flinging her sharpened stake at the black-robed vampire. In an instant, he turned to dust. "Now who's the fool?" Drawing her sword, Buffy then launched herself at the other four vampires. Between the two of them, Faith and Buffy dusted the gang of undead thugs in less than a minute, during which they were not even breathing hard.

In the meantime, Angel yanked the knife out of his neck, the wound mostly closing behind it. Tossing it to the ground, he spoke, his voice a little raspy. “Ouch.” Angel then opened the canteen that had been on his belt and drank the last of the pig's blood that had been in it. That quickly healed the remainder of the wound.  Angel looked at the two Slayers, feeling troubled. And not from the neck wound. “So...Darla is in town. She'd probably be in the castle, which would also be where most of the other vampires are.”

“So let's go and kill them.” Faith said. “This was just a warm up.”

“I believe the technical term for what you're proposing, Faith,” Angel said tersely, “Is suicide. There's going to be way too many vampires in that building for the three of us to take on alone.”

“What, you think we're not good enough? You didn't notice how Buffy and I took out those five, while you were all, you know, knife in the throat?” Faith shot back in annoyance. “Fat lot of use you were."

“Hey!” Buffy stepped in, automatically defending Angel. “If he hadn't distracted the leader with all the talking-”

"Then we wouldn't have had to waste our time chatting with the undead!"

"Waste our time? Why do you always disregard the value of information?"

"The only information I need is how quickly we can kill all of these damned things, before that Red Moon thing happens!"

Angel shook his head, as Buffy fired back a stinging retort about how Faith always rushed headlong into danger. “I wasn't finished!” He said over their arguing. This happened every time, and Buffy always expected him to side with her. Which, to be fair, he usually did, during those times when he couldn't avoid taking sides; even though he always ended up regretting it later.

“I said,” Angel raised his voice. “I WASN'T FINISHED!” The two Slayers finally shut up, looking at him. “Thank you. Now, as I was saying, Darla is here. And if she's here, the odds are Spike and Drusilla are here as well. That's why we're going to have to be VERY careful; like I've mentioned before, Dru has the sight, she could have already sensed our arrival in Sunnydale Town. If so, with her advance warning, any full-on assault we undertake would mean that we'd be walking straight into a trap."

"So, what do you suggest we do?" Faith shot back, looking annoyed.

"Yeah, Angel, what?" Buffy demanded as well.

Angel pseudo-sighed. "Well, the good news is that I do have a plan. The bad news is, I already know you're both going to  _ hate _  it...”

**Author's Note:** Yes, I'm an ass for ending it there.

**Next time, on Red Moon Rises:** _ Angel's plan goes into motion – and yea, Buffy and Faith hate it – just as the situation in the castle for Xander, Cordelia and Amy starts to go downhill, and fast.  _


	10. Deceptions

**Disclaimer:** I still do not own it.

Thanks to Starway Man, my beta. Any mistakes are mine, not his.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 10: Deceptions

**21 to 27 days until the Red Moon**

_Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

Within the castle, there was no realization that Angel was coming towards Sunnydale Town with two Slayers in tow. What there was was a realization that there existed a thorn in the vampires' side; one that had proceeded to unboard and open up nearly every damned window in the castle, and areas that had previously been considered 'safe' were now a death-trap for the unwary vampire carrying out Darla's orders.  More than one bloodsucker had burst into flames today, thanks to that annoying bastard of a guardsman and that damned witch companion of his.

Unfortunately, they had retreated to safety (well, what passed for it in a castle full of the undead, anyway) and they were not going to be removed easily. The laws of threshold were very real, and very, very, very aggravating.

Still, in other ways, the occupation of Sunnydale was proceeding nicely. True, thresholds were a problem down in the lower town, but there they could just burn the buildings – most of which were wood – and snack on the people as they ran out to escape burning to death. The first target of that had been the Church. That structure, unfortunately, had been mainly stone; but throw some sticks covered in oil-soaked burning rags in through the windows, and things were going to catch fire.

The holy building may have been mostly stone and mortar, but it nonetheless had a lot of flammable things in them – wooden support beams, benches, tapestries – especially tapestries – and, most importantly, Amarra-damned priests. The less of which were in the world, the better, as far as Darla was concerned. An attitude she'd had since before the Master had given her his gift, and turned her, given her her name.

“I am going to turn her.” Darla's most recent childe said behind her. “I'm going to turn Cordelia, and make her mine, and there's nothing you can do or say to make me change my mind about it!”

Darla turned to face him, letting her game face appear for just a moment and looking annoyed at the fledgling's tone. “There's a great many things I could do to you, Jesse. I could stake you, cut your head off, chain you to the ground outside and let you greet the sunrise..." The female vampire abruptly backhanded Jesse away savagely, in order to teach her newborn (for all of five minutes, now!) his place in the grand scheme of things. "Get up. Now. And I'll admit it's all well and good to plan to get your little lady love; but I shouldn't need to point out that she's safely behind a threshold, and doesn't look to be coming out any time soon!”

“You won't kill me.” Jesse said with a smug smirk, wiping the thin trail of lukewarm blood away from his lips where Darla had broken skin, and crossing his arms over his chest.

“And why would that be, pray tell?” Darla asked, picking up a sword and testing it out for balance.

“Because the guard that's been causing you so many problems? That even that blonde asshole and his psychotic girlfriend couldn't kill?”

“Yes? What of him?” Darla asked, exasperated, snapping out the demand.

“I know him! In fact, I'm Xander's best friend – or at least, the pathetic human I used to be was, anyway.” Jesse smirked at the expression on Darla's face. "So, still planning to use that sword you're holding?"

"Don't get _too_ cocky, boy," Darla snapped, tossing the weapon down. “So, what was your plan? To show up and pretend you're still human, beg him to invite you into the room? The castle's overrun by vampires. And your insipid little guardsman friend can't be stupid, or else he wouldn't have lasted against us for as long as he has! He won't give you a verbal invitation!”

“Well, I never said he would. But like I did say, I know him; and Xander isn't going to just cut his best friend's head off, vampire or not. His mind simply doesn't work like that; Xander cares too much about his friends and family. So killing him will be easy enough, I just need to get him out of the room.”

“And just how do you propose to do that, hmm?” Darla was intrigued – a little. Unlike the majority of her minions, this one seemed to be at least _thinking_ a little. Which was potentially promising. Or else, maybe Jesse was just making it all  up as he went along. Either way, she'd give him enough rope to either succeed or hang himself trying. 

“The same way the rest of us are doing down in the lower town. Fire. Smoke them out.”Jesse said gleefully, rubbing his hands together.

_Hmm. At least he has ideas, even if the young fool has no tactical experience whatsoever._ “Oh, yes, now why didn't I think of that?” Darla  pitched her voice higher than normal for a few moments. “Because I did, you  _moron_ ! Yes, we burnt out the church that way, but that building had a dozen windows; and all of them large, and with easily breakable stained glass. Plus, it was a free-standing building that was able to be surrounded. You think we can do the same thing here, in our chosen stronghold? I don't know about you, but I'm of no mind to see the entire castle go up in flames.  _And_ they have that damned witch in there with them. What makes you think she can't just snap her fingers and put out any fire you try to start, just like that?”

The Jesse vampire was now scowling at his sire. He hated being made to look like an idiot as much as the next soulless demon, after all. “Well, I don't see any of your other minions coming up with ideas. I try out my plan, what exactly do you have to lose? A few oil-soaked rags? Hardly that big a deal, when you get right down to it.”

_Interesting. It looks like there is a bit of spine there, after all; he's not even considering his own personal safety..._ Darla thought to herself, as she considered Jesse's words. She had been right to turn this one. Apparently the youth was one those rare vampires that seemed to retain their ability to solve problems, rather than becoming just another meat-headed thug. The Order of Aurelius often got the vampires who were in between. They weren't just mindless brutes, but they weren't that good at problem-solving either.

To be honest, most of the Master's bloodline were just fanatical pricks who liked to quote scripture and ominous-sounding, vague prophecy. Or just appropriate sounding words that at least _sounded_ like they were from Aurelian scripture. Luke was a prime example of that.

“Well, true enough. Your plan does cost me nothing. Even if you die, more of my followers will be coming to Sunnydale soon anyway.” Darla said to Jesse musingly. _As will Luke's...that bastard can't be that much farther away now...I can't be seen to not be in control of the situation when he gets here. Guess I'm in the mood to try anything..._ “ Very well.” 

Darla went over to the door of the rooms she had commandeered for herself and opened it. “You, and you.” She said, pointing to the two vampires standing outside of the room, holding swords of their own, points resting on the ground. “You two will follow Jesse here and obey his orders as if they were mine. Fail to do so, and you _will_ answer to me afterward. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, My Lady.” One of them stammered out.

“Good. Go.” She shooed all three of them. Jesse grabbed a sword of his own. She caught a snippet of a sentence as they walked away.

“To start, we'll need a number of unlit torches....”

_Impetuous fool. If you survive this, maybe it'll teach you that there's more to un-life than what's between the legs of that damned nobleman's daughter!_ Darla looked back out the window, uncovered this time, onto the town below. Given the pace they were eating the inhabitants, they would be out of food within a week. And that was assuming no more vampires arrived, which was a fool's assumption. Darla knew that at least a dozen more of her followers were barely a day away, and she had issued the call, by magic and by runner, for each and every Aurelian vampire loyal to her to join her at Sunnydale.

Sooner of later, Darla knew, they would be moving out of Sunnydale Castle. As grand as the structure was, it served no purpose in her broader objectives. The castle in which the Master had been...sealed away by the Daughters and their filthy witches was to the north. Or, at least, presumably so; since it hadn't exactly been maintained by anyone for the last six-hundred years. The center of the Hellmouth's dark energies was there, a nexus of power that had served her sire well in his efforts to bring back the Old Ones, and wipe clean the scourge of humanity.

_And when he rises, it will be me, Darla, not Luke, that stands by his side, heralding the dawn of a new, pure world._

_The Gates of Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

Angel saw Spike and the vampires with him before they saw him. He tossed the knife he'd been hit by from hand to hand, then slipped it into an inside pocket of his coat. Without any difficulty, he jumped to the top of the ceiling of an unburnt building, walking across it, jumping silently from rooftop to rooftop as he drew close to his grandchilde. Then he dropped to the ground. “Hello Spike.” He said softly. 

“Angelus-” Spike instantly looked up from the neck of the woman he was feeding from.

Angel forced himself to say what he was about to say.  _I just have to make sure Buffy doesn't find out about this part of it..._ “Boy, you know that I've never been one to want for any of your scraps.” Suddenly, his face shifted from human to demon, “But then, I  _have_ been living on pig and cow blood for the last century.” He suddenly lunged forward, grabbed the barely-alive woman from Spike and sank his fangs into the other side of her neck, away from Spike's bite marks. He drank.

_Oh-gods-so-fucking-delicious_ - _I-can't-believe-it.._ . Despite himself, Angel could feel the rush flowing through him, the human blood was...so....so...invigorating. It had been so  _long_ , he'd almost forgotten. For a moment Angel almost felt as if he could single-handedly destroy the entire Order of Aurelius, as the hot and delicious fluid rushed down his throat. But then Angel managed to remember who he was nowadays, and why he was here. So he forced himself away from the woman, and shoved her back at Spike, who let her fall to the ground; the other vampire was too busy looking at Angel to catch her technically still alive body. 

“A little bit goes a long way.” Angel said, wiping his mouth idly. “Especially when you haven't had it for as long as I have.”

Spike cocked his head. “Didn't the damn Slayers give you a soul a century ago.?”

“Technically,” Angel corrected, “It was a coven of witches aligned with the Slayers that _tried_ to give me a soul. They didn't succeed at it, however.” Angel said, an evil smirk on his lips. “I'm still the same old me. SURPRISE!” His face went back to a human-like one.

Spike sniffed deeply, but luckily he couldn't smell Angel's soul thanks to his grandsire's foresight and planning. Nonetheless, the younger vampire still wasn't convinced.  “So how come you've been hanging out with the Daughters of Sineya all this time, then? On account of people _do_ talk, Angelus. About what you've been doing to our kind. It's not natural, working with Slayers. Hell; even Luke, that bloody tosser, wouldn't use Slayers against Darla and her crew!”

“I know you're fond of the quixotic and pointless, Spike.” Angel spat. “But I happen to _like_ maintaining my existence, thank you very much. So if that means playing along so that the Daughters of Sineya don't try to turn me into dust, so be it. Or worse, they might try doing that damned spell again – and this time, maybe get it right! I've no interest in that happening, boy, and if only you'd use the brain I remember you once had, you'd know it as well.”

Spike scowled viciously, before his expression became more focused and suspicious. “ So you've been fooling the humans with an act, all this time? And none of them ever figured it out?”

Angel shrugged. “What can I say? I'm a damned good actor. And no one ever said Slayers won awards for being smart.” He licked his fangs, unconsciously trying to find any drops of the woman's blood that he hadn't swallowed. “They sent me here along with two Daughters, when they found out about some prophecy. Not that they bothered to mention details, other than it had something to do with the Master. I don't suppose you know anything more?”

Spike shrugged. “Yea. Something about a prophecy drew Darla here. Me?” He shook his head. “I couldn't care less. I'm here for Dru, and for the killing. So how'd you get away from your little Slayer handlers then?”

“Told them I'd come up here, do some reconnaissance.” Angel smirked. “Well, granted, I didn't use a word quite that complicated. Would've gone right over both their heads if I had. Still, they're hanging out down near the entrance of town, waiting for me to rejoin them.”

Spike smirked. “Well, then let's go get 'em. Been a few decades since I tasted Slayer blood!” He turned to head down the street. Angel's hand snaked out and grabbed Spike's shoulder, pulling him back. Spike lashed out at him, but Angel caught the fist before it could reach his face.

“You go down there, you get killed by them. Now, personally, that sounds like fun to me – I can have all the fun with Dru that I want-” Despite himself, he smirked inwardly – as well as outwardly – at the snarl that Spike let out at that idea. Soul or not, getting a rise out of his grandchilde _never_ got old, it seemed. “But this is a whole lot bigger than just two Daughters of Sineya. Besides, I'm not in the mood to just kill them. Well,” He added. “I'm not in the mood to kill _one_ of them. When we get that far, you can have the dark-haired one. But the blonde one's _mine_.”

“You're going to turn a Slayer?” Spike snorted with laughter, then started to chuckle. “Bloody hell, that's _brilliant!_ ” He kept laughing for a few moments, thinking of the ramifications of that act. How it would demoralise the rest of the Slayers, not to mention make them look like the complete fools they were, and give rise to an ally who knew all of the enemy's secrets. “Same old Angelus, aren't you? You twisted, conniving, evil old bastard! But why her, in particular?””

“Buffy's a real looker. Talented at giving head, too.” Angel chuckled darkly, mimicking Angelus perfectly. _I did live his life for a century and a half. All that he was...all that he did. It's still here..._ Suddenly, Angel found himself wondering just how much of this was an act, as he reminded himself never to mention details of this conversation to either Buffy or Faith. The odds were Buffy in particular would not deal well, given her...feelings.

"Buffy? What kind of a name is that?" Spike smirked, shaking his head. “So apart from personal preference - what exactly is it, then,” he shrugged Angel's hand off his shoulder, “that's keeping you from just going down and feeding on them, right now?”

“Because as part of my cover, I trained them both. Personally. That's how I know first-hand just how good those two Daughters are; together, they'd have a good chance of destroying _me_. So believe me when I say you can't take them both on yourself.” Angel smirked again, staying perfectly in character. “I mean, if you could never beat me – _ever_ –  then I have no idea how you can think you can possibly beat those two!”

Spike snarled again and lunged at Angel. The ensouled vampire ducked under the blow and kicked Spike's legs out from under him. Still, Spike managed to avoid falling flat on the ground, half-crouched on his knees. He pulled himself back up and glared at Angel, who made no move to continue the fight; something which actually gave him more credibility in Spike's eyes, oddly enough. "Try that again, old man, and I'll have your entrails to wear as a belt!"

"Promises, promises."Angel nodded to the castle. “Darla in there?”

“Yea.” Spike said, hands clenched into fists.

Angel saw that and smirked. “Good, let's go see her. I'm telling you, boy, I've _missed_ her! Oh, and by the way, Sybold's dead.”

Spike's eyes widened for a moment at that, then he chuckled again. “Bloody hell. You beat me to it! Couldn't stand that sanctimonious blighter.”

Angel smiled evilly. “You too, huh?” He turned towards the castle. “Well, I'm going in there to see Darla. If you decide to go and face the Slayers, just make sure they stake you somewhere in the shade so I can come back for your ashes later. And throw them down the sewer, before I, ah, _comfort_ Drusilla.”

Spike watched his grandsire stroll towards the gates of the castle, before he easily dealt with the two vampire guards who had no idea who he was and tried to stop him from entering the undead base of operations.  Neither of them lasted long, so swearing viciously under his breath, Spike ran and caught up with Angel, escorting him the rest of the way.

No point in letting the annoying old git have a chance to seek out Drusilla, after all.

_Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

Jesse – or at least, the vampire that wore the face and body of Jesse – reached out and knocked on the door to the room that Xander and the other survivors were hiding in now: Lord and Lady Chase's suite. From what he'd been told, it was Xander, two other guards, that witch, Cordelia, and Lady Chase were all holed up in those rooms.

Which really, when Jesse considered, it, was perhaps a few too many blood bags to take on by himself. If it had been Xander and the two guards alone, the odds would be a lot more in his favor, especially since Xander would be hesitant to kill him...but the two vampires Darla had assigned to him wouldn't be that useful against the witch. Cordelia and her mother he could almost dismiss from consideration, even though Jesse knew that Xander would be motivated to protect the two helpless women. His former friend had often shown a white knight's mentality, on occasion.

Ah, well. Time to give the plan his best shot.

On the other side of the door, Xander looked up immediately from sharpening his sword – sleep was a nearly alien concept to him at the moment. He hadn't gotten any of that recently. Bar one hour this morning...

“You're not thinking of answering that, are you?” Cordelia demanded as she saw Xander get up and head for the door.

“Actually, I was.” Xander answered.

“What are you, deficient?” She demanded. “Its not going to be anything but a damn vampire. If I had known you were such an idiot, Xander, I'd have had father fire you years-” Cordelia broke off as she realized what she was saying. _Dad's....dad's dead..._ She bit her lip, fighting back tears for a moment.

Xander didn't catch what was going on in Cordelia's head. “In case you didn't realize it, milady, I swore a life-long oath of fealty to your father; not your mother, and especially not _you_. So now that Lord Chase is dead, I owe you and Lady Chase nothing - even though this 'idiot' saved your mother's life, remember?"

"Xander, do you think you and Cordelia could possibly get over yourselves for a moment? We _are_ in trouble here," Amy snapped, looking annoyed.

Xander ignored her. "Sooner or later, _Cordelia,_ we'll get out of this damned mess and go our separate ways; but for now, we're pretty much stuck together. So how about you keep your mouth shut, unless you have something _productive_ to say?!” Xander demanded, ignoring the frowns of his two fellow guards as he walked to the door. “And of _course_ it's a vampire! But last time I checked, they didn't just knock on someone's door.”

“And have you _ever_ checked?” Cordelia snapped back, feeling hurt and infuriated by the way this, this, _commoner_ had dared speak to her. No one but her father did that! Except now... _No. There's no time to mourn Daddy's loss. Not now..._ Still, if there was one thing that could keep her distracted, it was a good argument; and right now, Xander was the perfect choice for that.

“No.” Xander admitted, thrown off his balance, as it were. Then he shook his head, as if to clear it. “That's not the point. We have a threshold to cover us, and since technically the only one left who can invite anyone in is your mother, and she's drunk herself into an unconscious stupor, I think we're good. Which means that I'm going to open this door and see what the vampire on the other side wants. Hey,” He added, smiling. “If we're lucky, they might be offering,”

He opened the door, and saw who was standing on the other side. “....room service...” He finished, voice incredulous.

Jesse, leaning against the other side of the door frame with one hand, smiled. “Hey Xander. Miss me-”

Right before Xander, with a burst of insight, held up an icon of Adun, and the newly turned vampire let his demon face show as he hissed and recoiled angrily. “Now that _wasn't_ nice!”

_Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

“Oi, Darla.” Spike said, brushing past the guards stationed outside her door and practically kicking the door in as he entered. “Something you should see.” He stepped aside. Angel, not for the first time, wished he had working lungs so he could take a deep breath, steeled himself and entered the room.

“What do you want, Spike?!” Darla demanded, furious at the interruption. She had been planning on how to assassinate Luke when the time came, but now all her musings had been for nothing. “I swear, I'm of half a mind to-” And then she saw him. “Angelus?” She said softly. _No, it can't be him...but...of course. I knew the Daughters of Sineya would send him..._

“Why did you bring him _here_ , you idiot?!” the undead matriarch then demanded of Spike. “Why didn't you turn him into dust?!”

“Oh, come on Darla!” Angel protested. “I know I've been missing for a century; but what is that, really, compared against eternity? 'Tis nae worth killing me over, is it?” Angel affected the accent of his homeland, which he'd long since lost in normal conversation. Then he dropped back into his normal voice. “Besides, Spike actually beating me in a fight to the death? Not even he would buy that one!” He chuckled, then ducked under a half-hearted swing from his grandchilde. For the blonde-haired vampire, this was quite an enjoyable little show, hence the lack of effort in the punch.

“The Daughters of Sineya gave you a soul! You're here with them.” Darla brought a sword up to Angel's neck. “Give me one good reason not to dust you right now!”

Angel shoved the sword away from his throat and drew close to Darla, grabbing the front of her shirt and pulling her in, kissing her the way he used to...once. As he'd said, Angel was a good actor. He pulled away a short time later. “How about this? I don't have a soul, Darla!”

He smiled broadly, spreading his arms. “That spell of theirs never worked, even though those fool witches thought it did. I just haven't had a chance to get away from their Slayer friends until now. Great Amarra, you think they _trusted_ me for the first fifty years? I had to wait until all of the original spellcasters and the Daughters who knew Angelus had died of old age, before I was able to gain some semblance of freedom! And even then, it took me decades of acting before I managed to convince their grandchildren I was who and what they thought I was!"

_Can this be true?_ Darla asked herself hesitantly, fighting an inner battle with her naturally distrusting nature; as, deep down, she  _wanted_ it to be true. She  _wanted_ her favorite childe back. "Go on." 

Angel shrugged. "What else is there to tell? The Daughters heard of a prophecy concerning your sire, the old bat nose himself. So they sent two of their best here, along with meself. Those two idiot Slayers think I'm up here scouting the place out, while they wait by the entrance of town. I came here straightaway though, as Spike can tell you. Well, after I staked that mouthy prat Sybold, anyway.”

Darla eyed the so-called Angelus suspiciously. It seemed almost too good to be true; even though, like Spike before her, there was no smell of a soul anywhere that Darla was able to detect.

“You don't trust me?” Angel demanded, playing his old self to the hilt. “I'm hurt, Darla.”

“You'll get over it. And if it turns out you're telling the truth, then I'll let you punish me like you did two centuries ago. You remember; when you finally caught up with me, after I left you in that burning barn to Holtz's tender mercies.” Darla said, savoring the memory. 

Angel forced himself to smirk darkly at that thought. “Now _that_ I'm looking forward to. Alright, so what do you want me to do to convince you that I'm not a liar?”

“Spike?” Darla said, turning to the other vampire. “Where's Drusilla?”

“Last I saw, stargazing on top of the north tower. Why?” Spike asked, frowning. 

“Just get her and bring her here.” Darla ordered, staring at her great-grandchilde in contempt. "NOW!"

_Shit._ Angel suddenly realized where Darla was going with this. The only question was - could Drusilla actually tell, one way or the other, whether he still had a soul? Insane though she was, his childe still had the Sight...

_Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

“No...” Xander said, staggering back from the door. This couldn't be happening. _Not my best friend...not Jesse. Not_ _ **him**_ _, damn it!_

“Oh, yes!” Jesse said maliciously, resuming his human mask. “Now, how about you let an old friend in for a little chat?” With a snarl, his human face was gone again...replaced with the image of the demon. “Or, you could just come out. Come on, Xander. Help a...hungry friend out.”

Xander's hand gripped the hilt of his sword. “Jesse...please...this isn't you.”

Jesse laughed. “Xander, Xander, Xander.” He made a tutting sound and shook his head. “I'm not Jesse. At least not the guy you knew. I'm better. Let's face it.” He said softly. “The old Jesse was a loser. A complete idiot with no prospects whatsoever. But now...” He spread his arms. “ _I'm a new man!_ ” He spoke enthusiastically. “You have no idea what this feels like. Come on Xander. Its not like we can't still be friends, especially if you come around to _my_ way of thinking. Think about it-”

Before he could say more, Cordelia grabbed a silver vase from a stand and tossed it, flowers and all, at Jesse. The recently turned vampire easily ducked under the object, chuckling.

“Ah, Cordelia. I'm going to have fun draining you...then making you just like me! Didn't know just how dumb you were until now, though. Silver doesn't hurt vampires. We're not werewolves, after all!” Jesse chuckled some more.

“I'm well aware of that, you undead pathetic idiot!” Cordelia snapped at Jesse. “I just wanted to interrupt your damned speech before you talked this moronic _ex_ -guard of mine into getting us all killed!” She gestured at Xander.

“Oh, it's not Xander that's going to get you all killed, my love. It's him.” Jesse pointed past them.

Despite themselves, both Xander and Cordelia turned to see another vampire crouched on the windowsill, just outside the threshold there. He threw a rock at Amy's head, knocking her out cold before she could defend herself; it had been Jesse's idea, after recalling what Darla had said concerning the witch. The two other House Chase guards were taken out the same way, the vampire's inhuman speed no match for the mortals in question.

Another vampire holding two sticks with oil soaked rags lit on fire in hand subsequently appeared at the windowsill. “Don't kill them; just set the room on fire!” Jesse said commandingly. The vampire snarled but quickly tossed one of the flame-sticks onto a wardrobe, and the other at a wall covered in tapestries...

Quicker than seemed possible, both targets were awash with flames. “The joys of Aurelian rituals, Xander!” Jesse said with a wide smirk. “Now, you can all just burn to death in there; _or_ , you and Cordelia can come out here where we can eat you.”

“We? You're not Jesse, and I only see one of you...vampire.” Xander said, still trying to get past seeing his best friend as...one of them. _It's not Jesse. It's not Jesse._ He tried to convince himself of that. It wasn't working terribly well, though. 

_Its not Jesse_ , Xander thought to himself as firmly as possible as he pushed Cordelia behind him, raised his sword and prepared himself to do something that (if he survived) would give him nightmares for years afterward.

** Author's Note:  ** I'm evil, aren't I? 

** Next Time, on Red Moon Rises: ** _ Will Xander be able to end the unlife of his best friend-turned-Vampire? Will Angel's cover be blown by Drusilla? And what on earth will these two think when they meet eachother for the first time? Find out next time, on Red Moon Rises! _


	11. Chapter 11: Receptions

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, Buffy and Angel are. Like Yoda, sound I do not.

Thanks to Starway Man, my beta. Any mistakes you see are mine.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 11: Receptions

**21 to 27 days until the Red Moon**

_Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

_It's not Jesse!_ Still repeating that in his mind, Xander swung his sword at the creature that was wearing Jesse's face. The vampire moved far quicker than any human could – no surprise there – and blocked his swing with a sword of his own, produced from thin air, or so it seemed. The roar and crackle of flames was suddenly all around them, with the fire spreading across the various flammable objects throughout the room...

“Cordelia! Wake up the others! Then grab your mother, and get her out of here! And take Amy with you!” Xander shouted, before he swung at Jesse with his weapon once more. Again the vampire effortlessly blocked the strike, but his position on the other side of the threshold meant that the demon couldn't reach far enough in to reach Xander's neck. Without looking to see if Cordelia was obeying his orders, Xander quickly slammed the door in Jesse's face, mind racing with something resembling a plan.

“What the hell are you _doing_ , Xander?” Cordelia demanded, as she dragged her mother's unconscious body up off the bed, assisted by the other two guards (who were now awake, if not entirely fit and fighting). One of the guards grabbed the unconscious Amy and threw her over his shoulder, with the other guarding his back and keeping an eye out to make sure those vampires at the windowsill did not manage to strike at them again.

“Cordelia! Shut up and let me think!!” Xander shouted. _I know what the first step is...but then what? Gods...Jesse...why?!_

“Think?! We're going to _die_ if we stay in here!” the nobleman's daughter screamed, her panic quickly grabbing the former guard's attention. 

Xander looked back, and saw that the bed was just starting to catch fire. He grabbed the far end of the sheets, which weren’t on fire, and flung the burning linen at the vampires still perched on the windowsill. They fell backwards, clearly hit by the flames judging from their screams. Then Xander turned back around and started to kick at the door.

“Just _open_ the damned door!” Cordelia nearly screeched at him. Harris ignored her and kicked again. And again. Finally the door shattered outwards, pieces of wood flying forcefully towards Jesse. They crashed into the vampire, knocking him to the ground. Unfortunately none of them pierced the heart, like Xander had been hoping; and so he instantly knew that he would have to finish the job personally.

Xander held the sword up, ready to slice through the neck of the vampire that wore the face of his best friend...

_It's not Jesse, It's not Jesse..._ Harris repeated to himself, again and again and again. Xander hesitated, unable to help himself, before the sword came flashing down...

But that moment's hesitation was enough. Jesse swung his leg to the left as he jumped to his feet, knocking Xander's out from under him. With an 'oof', Xander fell to the ground, the sword clattering a few inches from his hand.

The Jesse vampire then reached down and grabbed Xander by the cuff of his armor. “Oh, Xander. I _knew_ you'd hesitate at just the wrong moment! You tried to be the hero, but instead, you're just going to wind up dead.” The soulless demon smiled as if he'd made a joke, then donned his game face once more.

“Hey, fang face!” Cordelia shouted over at the Jesse vampire. She tore the symbol of Adun from around her mother's neck. “You suck at poetry!” The nobleman's daughter tossed the holy icon at the fledgling. It grazed the side of his neck, only burning a tiny part of him for a split-second...

But it was just enough time to allow Xander to pull himself free. He scrambled up from his knees, grabbing his sword. He raised it just in time to block another swing from Jesse. Keeping his sword ready, he shouted back at Cordelia and the two guards. “RUN!”

Blocking another swing, the vibrations reverberating throughout his body, nearly forcing him to drop the sword – they even made his teeth chatter together for a moment – Xander focused on the task at hand. Namely, surviving a duel to the death with his best friend. His best friend who was now a soulless monster intent on feeding on human blood and killing innocent – if annoying and bitchy – people.

Behind him, Cordelia picked up her mother again, holding onto her shoulders, while one of the guards had her feet. “Let's go!” She shouted at him. With the guard holding Amy over his shoulder leading the way, they ran down the hall, towards the stairs, escape the only thought on their minds Escape the castle, then...well, none of them were thinking that far ahead.

“You're going to _pay_ for this, Xander!” Jesse yelled, anger pouring through him. “Now another vampire is going to get _my_ Cordelia!” He swung again, and again, Xander blocking as well as he could. “See, I was going to turn you too, for old time's sake...” Jesse said, snarling. “But now I think I'll just settle for drinking every single drop of blood you have!” 

“I hope you choke on it.” Xander retorted. “No, wait. I think I'll just cut your head off instead!” The words were sincere, but despite everything, a part of Xander was still trying to convince himself that this wasn't his best friend anymore. _It's not Jesse..._ No matter how many times he said it, it still wasn't completely working.

“Never going to happen!” Jesse replied, the fledgling's tone somewhat overly-dramatic. “I'm not the Jesse you knew anymore. Like I said before, _I'm a new man!_ I'm faster and stronger than I ever was – and more than you'll ever be!”

“You're faster.” Xander swung at Jesse and the vampire ducked under the attack. “I'll grant you that.” 

Jesse swung back at Xander, and once more their swords clashed, sparks flying off to the side from the force of the blow. Xander felt his teeth chatter again, the sword once more almost dropping from his grip.

“And you're stronger, I'll even grant that too.” Xander feinted left, then swung around to the right, cutting across Jesse's side, the vampire's speed allowing him to move fast enough to avoid decapitation even after being feinted. “But that doesn't change the fact that you have no idea how to use a sword. _And you never did_.”

“Don't need to know how to use it.” the Jesse vampire said arrogantly. “Not when I can move like _this!_ ”

He dropped down to a crouch and slashed at Xander's waist. And he moved too fast for Xander. The sword didn't slice him in two, or anything close but it did cut a line, shallow and thin, from his waist down one leg. Xander grunted and fell to one knee. And close to one of the door shards. This one sharpish on one end and with some thickness and heft to it. Jesse jumped back to his feet, sword ready to cut across Xander's throat. “Goodbye, Xander-”

“Hang on!” Xander said, looking up at the vampire. Incredibly, he _smiled_. “Heads up!” 

He flung the piece of wood in the direction of Jesse's chest. Instinctively, the vampire moved aside to avoid the attack – which would have failed to hit the heart, anyway. But that gave Xander the time he needed to get to his feet again. Blood trickling down his leg, he ran for the stairs. The Jesse vampire chased after him, and barely two seconds later was standing right on the edge of the first step. Between the stairs and him.

“You're not getting away that easily!” The vampire snarled, pointing his sword at his prey.

“You really need to learn how to use that thing.” Xander managed to quip. So saying, he reached out with his sword handle and then pushed Jesse's weapon backwards. The vampire, taken completely aback by the unorthodox tactic, lost his footing and staggered backwards, falling down onto the stairs. And then falling head over heels all the way down, right to the bottom of the stairwell. 

"Ugghhh..." Vampire bodies can take extreme punishment, yes, but broken bones _do_ take some time to heal even for them. Still bleeding, Xander conserved his energy and quickly walked down the stairs, only running after he'd reached the bottom and stepped over the groaning Jesse.

Perhaps he should have stopped and ended the soulless creature then and there, but Xander just couldn't bring himself to do it. True, time was an issue and there was a risk of other vampires stumbling onto them; and in his current condition, Xander knew he would last less than thirty seconds in another fight with the undead. But if Xander was honest with himself – if it had been any other vampire, then he wouldn't have left the enemy 'alive' to chase after him at some point in the future.

It would probably come around to bite him – hopefully not literally – later, but it was too late to go back now and besides...it was his best friend. And despite himself, Xander still felt like there was _something_ of Jesse in there. Foolish of him, perhaps, but then the heart wants what it wants; and often pays no attention to what the head is telling it.

_Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

Angel forced himself to not fidget as they waited for Drusilla to come down and confirm that he really was who he said he was. And since he was saying that he was the soulless Angelus, when he really wasn't...that was a problem. And he didn't actually know if Drusilla could tell one way or the other, but her powers as a Seer had allowed her to know a great many things before.

Would the Sight allow her to know the truth, here and now?

“So tell me more about this Master you've apparently come here for, Darla. If you'll recall, I've never actually met the bat-nosed freak; so what's so special about him, other than the fact that he's got good taste in who to turn?” Angel asked. Leering, as Angelus always had, at Darla. 

Darla smiled a little at his words. “Don't call him that, dear boy. Not even in private! The Master is the leader of the Order of Aurelius. And to answer your question, he will open the Hellmouth and bring forth the Old Ones themselves. And then all the lands everywhere shall be cleansed of the scourge of humanity! The Master shall rule that new, pure world...with me at his right hand!”

“The Old Ones, huh? And you want to get rid of humanity?” Angel schooled his expression to not show the horror he felt at his sire's mini-speech. _Has Darla lost all reason completely? I never thought she was that insane!_ “Question: once all the humans are gone...what do we drink, Darla? Animal blood? Because I've been living on that for the past century, and I'm not interested in doing that any longer. Certainly not for all eternity! Besides, humans are just too much fun. Killing them, eating them, torturing them. I know you, darlin', so tell me; can you really give all that up?”

“Humanity is a plague of vermin on the world.” Darla said dismissively. “They are so far beneath us as to be gnats. We are _tainted_ by the remnants of humanity that we still have!”

“Well, maybe. But the way I remember it...you enjoyed those remnants plenty of times, Darla.” Angel pointed out. Continuing the act, the so-called Angelus allowed a frown to appear on his face. "It looks like you've changed, more than I anticipated... 

“Well, never mind. So, how does that ugly old bat propose to bring the Old Ones back, then?” Angel quickly changed the subject. Whatever else happened, the Master couldn't be allowed to summon the Old Ones. Or even 'an' Old One. Even the Daughters of Sineya had no way of killing such a creature that he knew of. Granted that long ago, as the last Old Ones were leaving this world, Sineya has supposedly created the first Slayers and given them powerful weapons that they had used to tear asunder those few giant demons that hadn't left yet. 

But if those weapons still existed – or had once existed – the Daughters, as far as he knew, had no idea where they were now. And if they really had existed at one point, and the Daughters really didn't know where they were now – which wasn't necessarily the case, since it wasn't as if he was privy to _all_ the secrets of the sisterhood – then Angel had to wonder how those women had managed to misplace such powerful, rare and valuable objects!

Before Darla could answer, though, Spike came back into the room with Drusilla in tow. Drusilla started to murmur incoherently when she saw Angel, her eyes wide with surprise.

Angel tensed, before he smirked and got back into character. "Hey, baby. I'm back!"

“Daddy...” She said softly. Then Drusilla scowled, donning her game face for a moment before returning to normal. “NO! It's not Daddy. You're the Angel-beast, you are! His heart's not full of you no more, Grandmummy – it's full of that nasty, wicked Slayer!” Dru abruptly hissed at Angel, then swatted in his direction, as if trying to get rid of a fly. “Shoo. Shoo!”

“Shit.” Angel said, seeing the infuriated looks directed at him from both Darla and Spike. The ensouled vampire knew when the jig was up, and there was no point in continuing this little charade after he had been outed so spectacularly. “I'd say I'm sorry, Darla; but really, I'm not...”

He grabbed Drusilla's arm and instantly flung her like a rag doll at Darla, knocking both female vampires to the ground. With Spike distracted over concern for his sire, Angel pulled a stake from his belt and dusted the vampires guarding the door before the other three members of the Whirlwind could chase after him. Still, they would do so soon enough. Spike in particular would relish the chance to finally end him.

Angel ran down the hall. Spike had led him in through the main entrance hall, then up several flights of stairs...there. The stairs. He heard footsteps behind him, and Darla bellowing for all to hear, 'GET HIM!!!'

_Well, I guess my little act wasn't a complete failure..._ Angel considered, forcing himself to see the bright side of things as he ran for his un-life. _At least, now I know what the big plan is. I just have to make sure I last long enough to get the information to Buffy and Faith._ He reached the bottom of the stairs, Spike and the other vampires just one flight behind him.

What the-? There are humans still alive in this place?

_Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

Cordelia couldn't believe that they'd managed to make it this far without running into any of the undead. Probably the fact that they had been safe behind thresholds for so long had kept the vampires away, knowing that attempted entry was pointless...but now they were in the main hall.

“There's no way that we won't run into vampires here, or once we get out.” The guard helping her carry her mother voiced what the young woman was thinking.

“Too late.” The other guard said, drawing his sword, leaning down just enough to drop Amy without hurting her more than bruising. The other guard let go of Miriam Chase's legs and drew his own sword.

“No, wait! I'm not here to fight you.” Angel said hurriedly. “I'm on-”

“You actually expect us to believe that you're still alive?” Cordelia cut him off angrily. “You're a fucking vampire! There's no one left alive in this castle, except us!"

“And how would-” Before Angel could say any more, Spike and three other vampires were down the stairs.

“Time for you to die, Angelus!” Spike shifted into his demon face. “For good.” He lunged at the older vampire, tackling him to the ground.

The other three undead saw the humans, and instantly felt hungry. Rather than helping Spike against Angel, they went after the guards. Immediately the two guardsmen gave ground, closing ranks around Miriam Chase. "Lady Cordelia..." one of them said hesitantly.

Cordelia grabbed Amy's limp form and dragged her back, so she was covered by the guards as well. Then she crouched down. “Wake the fuck up, Amy!” Cordelia slapped the witch in the face, as hard as she could. No response. “Wake up!”

The two guards, armed only with swords and stakes, were managing to keep the unarmed vampires at bay for the moment. They were in a better condition than Xander, having not fought against the undead for a while. One thought crossed both their minds, though.

_How long until our luck runs out_ _?_

Not far away Angel threw Spike off him, even as two more vampires came down the stairs. They charged at Angel, apparently less interested in eating than carrying out Darla's orders. Angel crouched down and grabbed his stake, kicking out at one vamp, sending him flying into Spike just as he got back to his feet. Angel then staked the other vampire, dust raining down.

_Hmm._ Cordelia thought upon witnessing Angel's feats of heroism, amazed over how she was being so calm, her thoughts so detached...even though she was close to hyperventilating.  _I guess the he might have been telling the truth, if he's actually fighting the vampires._ _Heroic, and handsome too. I wonder if he's nobility, he'd be the perfect husband for me!_ Part of her mind informed her. Then Cordelia asked herself,  _At a time like this, **why** am I thinking that?!_

Angel tried to stake Spike as the vampire came at him, but the stake collided with the long coat the vampire was wearing and bounced off, the wood shattering.

“Oh yea.” Spike said, smirking. “I forgot to ask, Angelus; how do you like my new coat? Got it off a Slayer I killed some thirty-odd years ago. She'd had it enchanted. Good as armor, and without the weight. And it looks a lot cooler." The blonde vampire smirked and then took advantage of Angel's shock to lay into his face with a punch that sent him flying back. Angel then crashed into one of the vampires that was fighting one of the guards, knocking him and the guard he was fighting to the ground. Angel just barely avoided a sword to his stomach. The vampire beneath him wasn't as lucky. 

Rolling off of the human, Angel jumped back to his feet in time to see three more vampires coming down the stairs, and another two coming down another flight of stairs. "Well, shit..."

“You're a pretty popular guy, aren't you?!” The guard that had fallen to the ground said, the vampire that had been atop him dusted.

“I, uh, I think I pissed them off.” Angel disagreed. He saw the stake in the guard's other hand, and took it from him within the blink of an eye. “Sorry, I just need to borrow this..."

Two vampires reached him, and Angel ducked under their attacks – these bloodsuckers had swords – before he staked one, catching his sword before it could land on the ground. He used the weapon to block a second swing from the other vampire, tossing the stake back to the guard. “Thanks.”

The guard didn't catch it, and ducked down to grab it – just in time to dodge a swing that would have taken his head clean off from a third sword-wielding vampire. He grabbed the stake and then was locked in combat. And, just to make everything perfect, _more_ vampires started coming down the stairs

“Really popular.” The second guard managed to half-gasp out, having dispatched his opponents and running up to help his compatriot.

Angel cut down another vampire. This time only to see Spike, having armed himself with a sword.

“Can't say I like using a blade, mate.” Spike said, swinging at Angel; only to have him block it. “Truth is, I prefer me own fists. Always have, always will. But, if it means I get to kill you, I'd even use a bloody spear at a hundred paces!” He sliced at Angel, and this time, cut him across the chest. Angel recoiled back, then slashed at Spike's legs. His sword evaded Spike's coat, and sliced across one leg. 

Spike cursed in what sounded like the Fyarl tongue and then he lunged at Angel again. "Enough with the foreplay!!" Spike exploded with a furious series of blows, forcing Angel on the defensive as he gave ground. Then Spike knocked his grandsire's feet out from under him, and raised his sword for the death blow-

The human body can't just ignore a well-placed strike with a lot of strength behind it. Even if you're a vampire, with all which comes with that. Xander's sword aimed at Spike's neck just bounced off the collar of the coat, but it distracted the soulless demon, throwing off his aim. The vampire's sword passed right over Angel's head, catching a few hairs along the way. Angel took advantage of the opportunity and kicked Spike away.

“Thanks.” Angel said. Xander extended a hand – and then as he helped Angel pull himself up, saw one of the vampires disarm one his fellow guardsmen...then sink his fangs into the man's neck. Xander didn't quite run – that was impossible with his leg injury, plus all the exertion lately...still, he struck at the vampire the moment he got within range. He cut off the creature's head, but too late. Too much blood had already been lost...and then the other guard had his neck broken, by a particularly large vampire. 

It was just him and the three women, two of which were unconscious, left. Xander nearly dropped to the ground, feeling numb. Angel kept fighting...but there were so many damned vampires...

Two of the undead, far from the 'front', suddenly exploded into dust. Two Slayers, each holding a stake and a sword, stood amid the remains as they rained down. “All this and you didn't invite us to the party, Angel?” Faith said exuberantly.

With a gusto, the two Daughters plunged into the fray, somersaulting over two vampires, and taking their heads as they landed, then staking two others. They moved too fast for Xander to watch, and the other guy – whoever he was – was keeping up with them, somehow. But surely no mortal could keep up the pace like these two Slayers...

The blonde vampire with the long coat apparently decided that discretion was the better part of valor, since the odds were no longer overwhelmingly in his favor. He ran over to one of the flights of stairs and disappeared up it, yelling for reinforcements.

“I thought I told you two to wait at the entrance of town!” Angel snapped, as the remaining vampires also made the same decision that Spike had made and ran for it. 

Faith shrugged. “B was too worried about you to wait.”

“Excuse me!” Buffy protested. “You were the one who was impatient to get into the Slayage!”

“Hey, uh, Slayers? I mean, I am right, aren't I? You're both Daughters of Sineya?” Faith nodded and Xander went on, “Good. Because they're gonna come back soon in overwhelming numbers, and as you can see, civilians here to protect.” He gestured to Cordelia, and the two other unconscious women. He pointed to Angel. “You're Angel, right? That Slayer over there called you that, didn't she?”

“Yea.”

Xander gestured towards the still-unconscious Amy. “Could you carry her? She's probably the only reason we-” He gestured to himself and the three women - “are still alive.” Harris grit his teeth as he looked again at the dead bodies of the last two guards. _Wonderful. I'm the last House Chase_ _guard; well, I would be if I hadn't resigned-slash-been fired after Lord Chase was killed._ "The woman's a witch, and I'm pretty sure we'll need her help to escape the township safely."

"All right." Angel easily picked up the unconscious Madison woman and slung her body over her shoulder.

Ignoring he pain from his leg as best he could, Xander grabbed Miriam Chase's legs, and gestured at Cordelia. “Come on. Help me get your mother out of here!”

Much to his surprise, Cordelia actually failed to complain as she grabbed her mother's shoulders, even as Angel hoisted Amy's body into a more comfortable position. And with Buffy and Faith leading the way, the group began their mad, desperate dash for safety... 


	12. Recuperations

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it. Moving right along....

Thanks to Starway for beta-reading

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni 

Chapter 12: Recuperations 

**21 to 27 Days until the Red Moon**

_Castle Arndstet  
Three Days travel north of the Lordship of Sunnydale_

  
“Darla has almost certainly managed to get to Sunnydale before you, Luke.” A cool voice said softly, from the shadows of the room which the vampire in question was praying in.

The centuries-old male vamp ceased his prayers and looked up from the altar. Not long ago, it had been the focal point of a human shrine; but now it had been desecrated, defaced to service the worship of Amarra, the Order of Aurelius, and the Old Ones. Not to mention the Master. For many reasons Luke always preferred to pray at a defaced shrine, rather than one directly built for the purpose of worshiping the vampire god.

There was a feeling of power in such action, after all. Evil always thrived on destroying good, wherever it could be found. Putting away such thoughts, Luke stood and turned to face the speaker, not that he could see him – the shadows in which his newly arrived companion stood were always too solid for even vampire eyes to penetrate. But then, Luke didn't _need_ to see him. There was only one person who would dare to interrupt him during sacred moments such as this.

A man who had known too many masters, and currently served none of them.

“I am well aware of that possibility, Julian.” Luke said. “Now come out of the shadows you hide in. If you are going to try my patience with words, then speak them from where I can see you.”

“Why should I do that?” The owner of the voice – Julian – asked, sounding amused within the darkness. “You and all your ilk are vampires. I am human, and gladly seek to remain that way. Granted, the concept of immortality sounds pleasant, and it’s not as if I ever spend any time in the sunlight anyway; but somehow, I don't find the idea of a demon inhabiting my body and eating blood for the rest of eternity at all palatable.” He chuckled. “Besides, your attempt to distract me is pointless. Darla _is_ already there, most likely, and you are still some distance away. She always was more goal-oriented than you, I must admit. You stop to deface any holy place you can find during your journeys, and kill in large numbers while you’re doing it. Supremely counter-productive, for anyone with an appointment to keep.”

“The Time of the Red Moon is still far enough away so as to matter not my tardiness. The offerings in blood I have made to Amarra, to Aurelius, to the Old Ones, and to the Master – they are all more than enough recompense for any slight delay in arrival. And it is worth my time to allow Darla to think she will emerge victorious before bringing her down low, where she belongs. Simply hold up your end of the bargain, and when the Master returns, you will get your money.”

“I always uphold my end of the bargains I make, Luke. It’s why I've managed to live this long. It’s the company I keep that always keeps dying off.”

“Something I have noticed for myself.” Luke said darkly. “Cross me, and you will eventually beg me for death before I finally kill you.”

“Cross you? Luke, please. I never even considered that.”

“Lie to me again, and I'll kill you at once on general principles!” Luke shouted at Julian furiously. “You bleed like any other mortal man...all your other abilities aside.”

Julian just laughed. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Luke. And that is, I'm as mortal as you are.” And then, as suddenly as he had appeared, Julian Parthenos was gone, vanished from within the shadows.

_Sunnydale Chapel, Sunnydale Town  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

“He'll live.” Amy said shortly, after examining the unconscious Xander with her magic. “But he's going to have trouble walking on that leg for a while.”

“Can't you do anything about that!?” Cordelia demanded. “Seriously, Amy, what am I paying you for?!” She had placed herself in charge of the castle contingent as her mother was still a useless wreck, and had taken to cowering in the farthest corner of the Church. The building was a burnt out husk of its former self, but it was still holy ground, and therefore the safest place to hide from the vampires even during the night-time hours. For now, anyway.

“Need I remind you that you're not actually paying me anything?” Amy snapped at Cordelia. “Not you, and not your mother. There is no binding agreement between us, and you couldn’t afford my services right now, anyway. Personally, I don’t know why I haven’t abandoned all of you and left Sunnydale yet. It must be because of a conscience I'd thought had long since atrophied into nothingness...”

“I would've thought your conscience was completely atrophied as well.” Angel commented from where he stood in the shadowed area of the chapel, away from the others. 

Amy, of course, knew full well what he was. She had met Angel before, likewise Buffy and Faith. So far, Amy figured, Cordelia, her mother Lady Chase, and the guard, Xander, didn't know what this cursed _creature_ was. Angel's soul didn't protect him from holy water or holy symbols, but unlike other vampires he could walk onto holy ground like this and survive. It did leave him on edge, and uncomfortable, though.

“Coming from you, Angel, that is beyond rich!” Amy shot back with a venomous glare.

“You know, Amy...” Faith said, from her position close to the door. She was keeping watch while Buffy caught some sleep, before they swapped roles. “When someone gets expelled from the Coven for misusing magic and being, you know, generally evil, they're not supposed to go and get hired by some rich lord in order to become rich themselves.”

“Really. So then all this,” Amy gestured widely, encapsulating their situation, “Is karmic justice for me, then? This,” She touched the lump on her head gently, “too?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure what the karmic justice for being a power-hungry bitch is, but if you believe that all this is your just desserts, then I’m not going to argue with you about it.” Faith replied.

“What about you and Miss Priss sleeping in the back, then?” Amy replied coldly. “Just out of curiosity, what's your karmic justice?”

“We live to kill vampires. That’s it. No chance of a husband or children. No chance to be anything but a Daughter of Sineya. For all our powers, that’s our lifelong calling – and our curse,” Faith said harshly, even though her head never wavered from its position keeping a lookout at the front door.

“Look, whatever your malfunctions are, people, don't we have other things to be concerned about? Like what the vampires are doing in Sunnydale?” Cordelia demanded. “Why are they here? I mean, since when do the undead invade a human township this? Aren't they supposed to be all lone-wolf hunters or whatever?”

“Well, usually they operate in small gangs and nests, but yes, you’ve got a point; they don't usually gather in groups this big. Except whenever there's a cult involved, of course. Vampire cults are annoyingly common.” Amy replied. “I don't know which cult these vampires are aligned with, though.”

“The Order of Aurelius.” Angel supplied. “I have first-hand experience with them.”

_Yes, I don't doubt it._ Amy understood that comment for what it meant. She idly wondered how long Angel could keep his...secret from Cordelia, her mother and Xander, once he woke up. Not that it really mattered; the two women were no threat to the former Angelus, and while Xander might try to kill the vampire first and ask questions later...in his current physical state, the attempt to do so would be a pitiful failure. Even assuming one of the Slayers didn’t knock him out cold again for daring to attack their pet vampire.

Amy idly considered blurting out the secret just to spite Angel. She was far less fond of the undead jackass than she was Buffy or Faith; given what he had done as a soulless monster, Angel’s moralistic judgments were the height of hypocrisy, in her opinion. The only one she hated more than Angel was, in fact, Willow. She hated all the others in the Coven too...but that tattle-tale, do-no-wrong, butter-wouldn't-melt-in-her-godsdamnned-mouth red-haired bitch Willow had earned the worst of Amy’s venom.

_Even though there was once a time we were close friends, I truly hate her. Loathe her. I’d kill Willow if I could! Still, one day, she'll get hers. From me, or someone else. Someday..._

Amy quickly shook her head and decided to focus. No, given the situation, it probably wasn’t wise to mention what Angel was to Cordelia yet. It could wait for later, especially with the way the dead nobleman’s daughter was eying the undead bastard appreciatively. Best to let her foolish crush develop a while longer; it would be so _amusing_ to see the expression on Cordelia’s face later on, when the brainless little twit finally realized that she had been lusting after a vampire.

“The Order of Aurelius is here because six-hundred years ago, an extremely old and powerful master vampire called, creatively, _The_ Master was imprisoned under the earth in a castle north of here.” Angel continued. “The Red Moon is coming, and apparently, there's a prophecy that says that when the Red Moon rises, the Master will be freed. Which would be...bad.”

“Wait, do you mean – those old ruins at the edge of the lordship?” Cordelia demanded, eyes wide with incredulity. “That place is an abandoned wreck! It's been crumbling for decades, ever since my great-grandfather founded the Lordship – no, even before then. That place wasn't even worth restoring to turn into a decent castle anymore. So are you telling me there's a – no. That's impossible!”

“Well, tell that to all the vampires that just invaded your town.” Angel said harshly, before examining Xander carefully. “Once he's recovered, you three should leave here as fast as you can.” Then he turned to Amy. “Remind me, did they teach you about sending spells before you got yourself kicked out of the Coven?”

“Sure, Angel, rub salt all over a well-healed wound, thank you very much.” Amy snarked back at him. “Seriously, you already need new material, so stop embarrassing yourself that way. The same goes for Buffy and Faith! And no, they didn’t teach me about that sort of thing while I was with the Coven. I don't know any way to get word to the Slayers faster than sending someone on foot, or horseback. But just so you know, Angel, Xander isn't going to leave after he wakes up simply because _you_ order him to do it. He's stubborn like that.”

“Then you’ll have to persuade him otherwise. This township is no place for civilians, not anymore. Or even a castle guard! He did well enough, I suppose, but look at him now. The man's in no fit state to be anything but a snack, for any vampire that happens to find him.” Angel said dismissively.

“Well enough?!” Cordelia demanded, feeling like she should defend Xander for some reason. Maybe it was because she instinctively felt like her survival was somehow tied to his, or because the ex-House Chase guard was the last remaining fragment of the noble-born life she had lived; but whatever the motivation, Cordelia told Angel angrily, “He's the only reason we're still alive!” Then it dawned on her, “Xander's the only reason I'm not a vampire right now! That crazed psychotic idiot...what was his name, Jesse? He was ranting about making me 'his'!” She shuddered. “So don't talk about Xander like that!” Cordelia added imperiously.

_My, my. Since when have you and Harris been on a first-name basis,_ _ **Lady Chase**_ _?_ Amy thought to herself in amusement. _Three days ago, I would have sworn that you never would have deigned to admit that you even knew Xander’s name. Odd how circumstances can make a person out of a princess, isn’t it?_

“Whatever you say.” Angel said to the brunette indifferently, wandering away to talk to Faith. He therefore missed the infuriated look Cordelia sent him at being dismissed so cavalierly, even though Amy didn’t. Still scowling fiercely, Cordelia went to talk to her mother, hoping to persuade her to wake up to the reality of their situation. So indulging a personal whim, Amy went over to stare at the sleeping Buffy.

“What are you doing here?” Angel’s gruff voice said from behind her back, causing the witch to chuckle darkly.

Amy turned around to face the vampire, smirking. “None of your business. At least, no more than it’s any of _my_ business if you’ve finally bedded Buffy yet. Of course, if you wish to volunteer that information-”

“You were right the first time. That’s none of your business,” Angel cut Amy off at once.

“Ah. Then the answer’s no. I thought as much.” The Madison woman never stopped sending Angel that evil smirk as she added, “As I recall, Buffy always wanted you the way a woman wants a man; even if you don’t exactly qualify as a _man_ , of course. Willow, Tara and I even had a wager about it, when we were teenagers; whether or not one night, Buffy would succumb to temptation and act upon her womanly desires. You know – throw you down onto her bed, rip off your pants and then impale herself on your-”

“That’s enough out of you, _witch_ ,” Angel rasped, fighting not to let his game face show. He cursed himself at once for losing his temper, for letting Amy get under his skin this way; but it was too late to take the comment back now.

Indeed, Amy instantly seemed a lot more cheerful. “What are you going to do if I refuse to remain silent, Angel? Bite me? Oh, but you wouldn’t do that on account of your poor, tortured soul. An ensouled vampire with feelings for a Daughter of Sineya; it’d be tragic, if it wasn’t so laughable! And it must drive you mad, mustn’t it? Smelling Buffy’s arousal, every time she comes near you. Knowing that all it would take is a single word, a gesture, a look even – and Buffy’s body would be yours for the taking...”

“And then what?” Angel demanded. “What can I offer Buffy, or any other woman? A man’s love? You said it yourself, I don’t exactly qualify as a man. Plus, what do you think the elders would do to her, once they learned that Buffy had willingly become one flesh with a vampire? She’d be thrown out of the Daughters in disgrace, the same way the Coven threw you out of their ranks, and I’d never see her again. And she’s too precious to me to ever let _that_ happen!”

“I see. Well, that does make a certain amount of sense, I suppose.” Amy replied, looking thoughtful. “Of course, there _is_ a simple solution to your problem.”

“What are you talking about?” Angel demanded, frowning.

“Convince Buffy to let you turn her into a vampire, and then have someone restore her soul; the same way the Coven did with you,” Amy replied, that evil smirk instantly appearing back on her lips. “Those are incredibly dark magics, granted, but I’d be willing to perform the curse for you; well, for the right price, anyway. That way, you and your lady love could be together forever, or at least until dust do you part. Imagine it, Angel – making love to Buffy every night, for the rest of eternity...”

“I already told you once, witch, that’s e _nough_ out of you!” Angel snapped. “And don’t you dare mention that sick and perverted plan of yours to Buffy, you hear me? Or else soul be damned, I’ll snap your neck in an instant!”

Amy immediately ignited a fireball in her right hand, causing Angel to back off at once. “You could _try_ , vampire. But I haven’t lived this long by leaving myself vulnerable to threats from an undead, lovesick idiot like you. So keep your distance from me, or soon enough – Buffy will be crying over fiery ashes!” So saying, Amy extinguished the fireball and strolled away, deciding to check on Xander’s state of health. Angel quick departed as well, trying to calm down before he did something stupid.

Neither of them paid any attention to Buffy, who was still curled up as if asleep; but the young woman’s eyes were wide open, and had her back not been turned to her companions, everyone would have seen the tears streaming down the Slayer’s cheeks after being forced to listen to that particular conversation.


	13. Preparations

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it. 

Thanks to my Beta, Starway Man.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 13: Preparations

**20 to 26 Days until the Red Moon**

_Chase Castle, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

“Hello, Darla.” 

The blonde vampiress turned at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. She saw no one else in the room, and as if in reply to her unspoken question, there was a hollow chuckle. “You may as well stop looking, Darla. You'll not find me if I don't want to be found.”

“What kind of magic are you using to conceal yourself from my sight, you pathetic coward?” Darla snapped.

A stake flew in the air towards her from the shadows, but the female vampire swatted it away with ease. The male voice then said laughingly, “Tut tut, Darla. Watch who you call pathetic.”

“If that was supposed to be a show of your power, then I am less than impressed.” Darla snarled.

“Oh, please. Darla, if I wanted you dust, then I would have taken down that curtain and simply let the sunlight do its work for me - before you had even realized what happened.” There was a pause, but before Darla could speak, the voice added, “My name is Julian Parthenos.”

If Darla could breathe, there would have been a sharp intake of breath as she registered that name. As it was, despite her efforts, a look of recognition flashed across her face.

“Ah. So, I take it you've heard of me?” Julian asked, chuckling with more mirth. “It's always nice to be recognized, if not appreciated.”

“Appreciated? Your reputation precedes you. Your skills, _and_ your penchant for treachery.” Darla growled at the shadows, feeling annoyed by how she couldn't see who it was she was talking to.

“I'm insulted!” Julian protested. “I've never betrayed anyone.”

“And yet, everyone you've worked for has met with a bloody end? I do not believe _that_ can be merely coincidence.” Darla pointed out.

“Coincidence, shmoincidence. My employers always die due to the actions of their enemies, and their own stupidity.” Julian replied. “And even if you were right – which you're not – then it should comfort you to know that Luke is my most recent employer.”

Darla laughed. “Now that's the best news I've heard all week.” _It really is, too. Really, really good news..._ She was still fuming over Angel and his attempt to play her for a fool. “But I'm not interested in paying you to betray him. Since that would mean you would work for me...which would defeat the purpose of trying to achieve victory myself.”

Julian laughed. “Smart. Very smart. Annoying too.” He shrugged, even though Darla couldn't see it. “Ah well. Can't blame a man for trying.” Then he fell silent, and said nothing more.

Darla waited for several minutes, wondering if he was gone. She had to admit, Julian Parthenos was...a mystery. She'd only heard bits and pieces about the man, but enough to doubt if he was actually a man at all. Still, she definitely knew enough to know not to trust him as far as she could throw him.

Which was likely to be a very short distance, since he refused to let anyone see him in order to grab hold of him in the first place.

But speaking of Luke...

Darla left her room and grabbed one of the guards standing outside of it, lifting him off the ground. “Where's Spike?” His failure, not once, but twice, left Darla wanting to rip the damn bastard's head off. Unfortunately, he was the closest thing she had to a half-way competent minion she had, except maybe for Jesse, and he was just as much of a failure during recent events as Spike.

“South...South Tower, Mistress!” the guard managed to get out. 

_Good. Now, to deal with him and his damn lunatic..._ Darla dropped the pathetic, gurgling minion and stormed down the hall, tearing a tapestry off the wall as she went. By the time she'd finally reached her destination, two suits of armor, three tapestries and a door had been torn away from where they'd belonged and broken or scattered, or both. She'd also taken the time to vent on two more of her minions, staking one that had the temerity at actually fight back as she pounded on him.

“SPIKE!” Darla shouted as she reached the South Tower. 

“Oi, we're up 'ere!” Spike shouted down from the stairs. “Now what the bloody hell do you want, Darla?” 

_What do I want? Well, they say actions speak louder than words..._ Darla jumped the distance between herself and Spike and splashed a vial of liquid across the male vampire's face, watching in satisfaction as Spike's face burned and he bit back a scream.

“What the _**bloody hell!?**_ was that for, you psychotic bint?” Spike demanded, the barest hint of survival instincts stopping him from attacking Darla for her actions. 

“Call it punishment. You've failed me twice in a very short span of time now. That does not please me.” Darla grabbed Spike by the front of his shirt and threw him backwards with all her undead strength. 

Letting out a small yelp of pain, Spike pulled himself off the stairs and back onto his feet. Glaring at Darla he said, “So what are you planning to do? Stake me?”

“It's crossed my mind. But unfortunately, I have something more important for you to do. Gather the troops, everyone - even your damned lunatic Drusilla. Because tonight, we'll be leaving the castle. It's time for me to establish control over the Hellmouth.”

_Sunnydale Church, Sunnydale Town_

_Lordship of Sunnydale_

“Like _**hell**_ I'm going to leave!” Xander shouted at Angel, once he'd woken up and heard the plan the vampire had proposed. “Sunnydale is my home-”

“Sunnydale is _**nothing**_ , you idiot!” Angel responded just as loudly. “This whole place is doomed now. There's no way we could take on all the vampires present here – there's too many of them – even if you didn't have a broken leg, and wasn't so beaten up you may well be a chew toy for a rabid dog.”

Xander sneered at the ensouled vampire.  _Not bad, for a commoner_ , Cordelia thought to herself approvingly as she saw it.  _Maybe Father was right to hire Xander as a guard, he might actually have some potential..._

Harris ignored her and said to Angel, “It's a great turn of phrase, I'll give you that. But it doesn't convince me I should just abandon my home to the monsters!”

“It's not about abandoning your home and your friends here, it's about saving your own life. You're only human.” Buffy interjected. “You've done pretty well managing to survive everything you've gone through so far, sure, but that's been mostly due to luck and vampire overconfidence. And now that you're wounded, your luck is going to run out if you don't get out of here while you still can.”

“ _Luck_?” Xander snarled at her like an angry wolf, which actually made Buffy take a step back. “Really? Is that what you think, _Slayer?_ I've been lucky?” Xander glared at her, stretching the words just a little as he leaned in just a little. “I've been lucky, have I? Because I didn't know that luck had such a stretchable definition.” 

Harris laughed hollowly before he said, “I mean, here I was, angry as hell at the vampires for attacking my home, killing my employer, breaking my leg, leaving me stuck in a room for two days with Princess Prissy over here-” everyone ignored Cordelia's "Hey!" of protest - “killing all the other guards in the castle – my _friends,_ most of them – and then, and here's the kicker, not only do they kill my _best_ friend, whom I've known since we were mewling infants together, but they turn him into a **soulless fucking undead monster**! But now I get it! I've been _lucky!_ Thanks a lot for telling me that, you condescending wench!”

"Hey!" Buffy grew mad after hearing that particular pejorative label.

"Watch you're calling a wench, stud." Faith said warningly, turning away from her whispered conversation with Amy. "Shape you're in, you wouldn't last a second against either me or Buffy here."

“Everybody calm down. And true enough, you haven't exactly been lucky.” Angel said to Xander. “But that's exactly the reason why you and your women should leave, now.”

"Hey, don't you DARE call me or my mother 'Xander's women'!!" Cordelia shouted angrily.

Xander ignored her, focusing on Angel. “I don't care. I'm not abandoning-”

Faith stopped him this time. “It's not a matter of abandoning everyone to save your own skin, pal. Look, Harris, you can't tell me that you think you'd actually be of any use in a fight right now, can you? Not in the condition you're in. You can't even walk unaided! True or false?”

Xander bit his tongue for a moment, then admitted quietly, “True. And I guess you're right, I can't tell you that...”

“So, let's look at this from the first rule of the Slaying: namely, 'don't die.' There are too many vampires for Buffy, Angel, Amy and I to take care of on our own.” Faith said reasonably.

“Hey! I'm not getting drafted into-”Amy started to protest. 

Buffy grabbed the front of her shirt and lifted her clear off the ground, leaving the mercenary witch dangling and kicking in the air. "You were saying?"

“Okay, fine.” Amy said stiffly, as Buffy put her down. “Have it your way - for now.”

“But if we don't have to worry about you, the snob and the basket-case-" Faith started to say to Xander.

"Who are you calling a _**snob**_ , you - you commoner!" Cordelia demanded haughtily, getting up on her noblewoman high horse. "And how dare you insult my mother! We've had people flogged for a lot less than that, around here!"

"Well, you're in no position to have anyone flogged now. Just in case you didn't realize it." Angel stared at her expressionlessly, which merely made Cordelia glower at him and reconsider whether Angel was 'future husband' material.

"He's right. So why don't you just keep your mouth shut, your Ladyship, unless you have anything useful to say?" Buffy said meaningfully to Cordelia, who simply glared at her and folded her arms across her chest.

"Yeah, as I was saying? Long as we're not distracted with you three, we should be able to at least keep helping the people in this town. Protect them, maybe get them out of here.” Faith continued. “But we need reinforcements. That's what we need from you, now, in order to do your part for the cause; travel south to our Temple in the Agaden Forest. Do us all a favor and take her,” the brunette Slayer pointed to Cordelia, “and her mother with you. Keep them safe. And when you get there, tell Nikki Wood that the four of us need backup straightaway.”

"How much backup?" Cordelia demanded in that same haughty voice as before. She wasn't exactly opposed to the plan, as it meant escaping from certain death; but if there was one thing the young Lady Chase was certain of, it was that she had been born to be no one's servant and accept no one's orders. Well, apart from her future husband and the father of her children, of course.

Buffy just glanced at her in exasperation. “Lots and lots of backup.”


	14. Wait, This Chapter Doesn't End in '-tions?'

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill.

Thanks to Starway Man for beta-reading this chapter.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 14: Wait, This Chapter Doesn't End in '-tions'?

**10 to 13 Days until the Red Moon**

_The Golden Goblin Inn, Olvikun City_

_Barony of Olvikun, Kingdom of Arenso_

Wesley entered the taproom of the inn they had stopped at for the evening, immediately making a beeline for the table that Fred and Gunn were sitting at. Fred was nursing some kind of fruity looking drink, taking fairly small sips. Unsurprisingly, Gunn had a mug of ale in front of him.

Behind him, Lilah trailed into the tavern. She'd insisted on following him when he'd left to buy them supplies for the last leg of their journey, and he'd been unable to shake the woman. Fortunately, Wesley had not needed to kill her – thought why that was fortunate, he wasn't quite sure. She had continued to refuse to give any of the information she'd promised she had, always saying that she would tell them 'when the moment was right'.

“It should take us about five more days, give or take, to reach the borders of the Lordship of Sunnydale. From there, perhaps two days to the town itself. The place where the Master was sealed away is north of the town.”

“We're cutting it pretty close then, Wes.” Gunn commented. “If its only ten days from now, rather than thirteen – will three days be enough?”

Wesley shrugged. “By then, hopefully, both Darla and Luke will already be there, and thus we can focus all our efforts on killing them and only them. Though we will have to be very careful. If Giles' estimates about the size of the cult are close to accurate, each one could have upwards of three hundred vampires with them. It depends on how much of their respective followings manages to reach Sunnydale in time.”

“Six hundred vampires...?” Fred said softly... “How can we – I mean, how would they feed so many?! There's no way they can support that many vampires in one place for long!”

“Well, those that arrive earliest – indeed, the ones that have arrived by now – are probably preying on the people of Sunnydale Town and the surrounding communities. Who knows how many of those unfortunates are dead by now.” Wesley replied, softly. “But as for feeding them all, they'll probably stop killing the humans they feed on at some point and drink just what they need, rather than gorging. That will allow one human to stay alive and possibly feed them for weeks, if need be. And, they _can_ survive on animal blood. They just hate the taste. But still, when they're on the road, hungry vampires with no convenient humans to snack on will eat whatever animal is handy. The same would likely apply here.”

“They prefer to eat otters and voles, actually, if they can get them. The blood tastes nearly as good as human.” Lilah added. The other three looked at her. “I'm Black Thorn. We know more demonology than anyone.”

“Because you traffic with them.” Wesley said sternly.

“Of course.” She smiled. “Best way to learn about anything is to spend a lot of time up close and personal studying it.” Then she shrugged. “Anyway, in terms of getting past however many vampires end being there, we won't have to worry about the bulk of them.”

“How is that?” Wesley asked, skeptically.

“Hundreds of vampires of two competing sects of a cult like the Order of Aurelius in a fairly small area. You do the math. It will be a tinderbox at best, open warfare at worst. Indeed, I wouldn’t be surprised if Darla and Luke encourage it. If their two sides fight, and one becomes the clear winner, then that winner can throw them all at the opposing childe of the Master.”

“So if we're lucky, the vampires will do half out work for us.” Gunn noted, following her logic.

“Not just that....” Fred said, thinking out loud. “Maybe, If we do it right, we might even be able to actually spark direct open conflict between the two sides...” She shook her head, clearing it, “Did you get everything I put on the list?” She asked Wesley, changing the subject.

Wesley nodded, putting a large cloth sack on the table. “I told the local Alchemists' guild that I was with you, and gave them your chit.” He reached into his pocket and handed an metal disk with an elaborate design carved into one side, “Speaking of, here's that back.” Fred took the chit and slid it into her pocket. “I'll freely admit I have no idea what you have in mind with all this. Care to enlighten me?”

“Not...yet. Soon, though. And the holy water?” Fred asked.

“The amount you wanted is in there as well.” Wesley nodded.

Fred nearly bounced in her seat eagerly. “Excellent.” She picked up the bag, lifted it a few inches off the table, then set it down down and turned to Gunn, offering one of her patented irresistible smiles. “Charles, could you carry this up to our room so I can get to work?”

Gun looked at her for a moment, and then in the best traditions of all husbands and boyfriends throughout history, inevitably caved and stood up. He grabbed the bag, lifting it easily, then walked towards the stairs in the back of the taproom, up to the floor with all the rooms. “You know, this really isn't that heavy.” He complained half-seriously to Fred as she walked behind him. “You didn't _need_ me to carry it for you.”

“No, I didn't.” Fred admitted, still smiling, “But why would I bother carrying it myself when I have you for that?”

“Sometimes, I wonder if the only reason you agreed to marry me was so that you could make me your personal packhorse.” Gunn muttered, faking hurt.

Fred smirked, and then hit his arm lightly. “It wasn't the _only_ reason, dear.”

“Ah, young love.” Lilah said to Wesley as the couple faded out of view and earshot. “Those two act so sweet. Makes me want to throw up.” She took a sip of her drink, then frowned at the mug. “Then again, it might just be the shitty excuse for ale they sell in this place.”

“Probably that.” Wesley replied, sliding his ale across the table away from him. “Then again, all the ale they sell here in Arenso is crap. Its like making love on the beach.” Lilah raised an eyebrow. “Fucking close to water.” Wesley explained. “Give me good quality Britillian Ale any day of the week.”

Lilah smirked. “Missing the mother country?”

“Always.” Wesley replied, stone faced.

“Then why don't you go back?”

“Because Travers wants me dead, and the Isles are completely in his pocket, these days.” The corruption of Giles' days had only gotten worse. Indeed, it had reached the point where it wasn't corruption any more, so much as just normal daily business practice.

“True.” Lilah agreed. “Still, it keeps the Black Thorn from getting into Britillia. Your ex-boss doesn't like the competition.”

“Yes. Never thought I'd be thankful for anything Travers did, even if that is just an unintended side-effect.” Wesley commented. “Speaking of, what exactly _does_ this 'Black Thorn' do, apart from try to steal rare mystical tomes, traffic with demons and try to stop the end of the world?”

“Power. What else?” Lilah replied smoothly. “The Order of the Black Thorn is about power, for itself, and its members. Any kind of power will do.”

“And what exactly does it want to do with this power? What do _you_ intend to do with this power?”

“Whatever it wants. Whatever _I_ want. Its quite liberating to be evil, Wesley. You should try it some time. With your skill, you could go far.”

“I like my soul where it is, thank you very much.” Wesley stared at his mug of ale as he said that.

“So do I. Haven't sold it or signed it away to anyone. Don't need to. We're not dark cultists. Demons are for serving humans, not for being served by them.”

“You can't control the dark forces at work in this world, Lilah. Not without them coming to control you. There's a reason why no kingdom or nation since the Dark Time has tried to harness demons or dark magics to bolster its armies.”

“Really? What reason is that? Because the science of magic and the study of demonology has advanced quite a bit since then, Wesley.” Lilah pointed out. “And the reason why no kingdom has ever tried to use demons or dark magics for their own aggrandizement is because of the Church of Adun and the Daughters of Sineya, more than any inherent risks. You know what royalty - _any_ royalty - is like, lover; just like you know how governments are not known for their far-sightedness, or their caution.”

Again, Wesley shook his head. “The example of the Dark Time is a powerful one, Lilah.”

“But also one that's far in the past. After a dozen centuries, people don't take it as a cautionary tale about what to not do - but rather as an instance of 'they failed, but I'm smarter, I'm luckier, I'm more powerful, and I'm better than they were, so I can succeed'.” Lilah smirked. “And quite frankly the Black Thorn is all those things, and will succeed where its predecessors failed.”

“Stop giving me more reasons to kill you.” Wesley said sourly, getting up. “The list is as long as my arm already, and it's getting progressively harder to justify keeping you alive to myself. I'll see you again in the morning.” So saying, he went up the stairs and entered his room.

Lilah took another pull of her ale, frowned in distaste and set the mug down. Then she got up, walked onto the upper floor and went into her room. They'd gotten three, since Wesley had refused to share with her. Annoying, that. Lilah figured she would have to up the ante with him soon, which was risky; but the potential reward was _so_ worth it.

_Wilkins Castle_

_Olvikun City_

Richard Wilkins III, Baron of Olvikun, was not a happy camper.

Running a Barony was a great deal of work even at the best of times, and also running a kingdom-wide network of informants and warlocks on top of that was just too much for any normal man to handle. Still, this particular Baron was hardly 'normal', and viewed his personal spy network as the icing on the cake which was his personal demesnes.

Wilkins paused in his thoughts and looked up from the agricultural report he'd been reading. He stared idly ahead for a moment, then set the report aside a moment. Grabbing another sheet of parchment, he picked up and re-inked his quill, speaking his words aloud as the black feather passed across the page.

“Note to self: Have Miss Downsworth make her special chocolate icing cake for after dinner tomorrow.” He set the quill down and picked up the report again, picking up from where he'd been reading before and effortlessly picking up his previous train of thought.

The problem with his two roles was that there was just too much dull, boring, uninteresting busy work that he couldn't just fob off on an underling. Well, technically speaking, he could. His Seneschal, Alan Finch was certainly a capable young man, and already handled an impressive amount of the grunt paperwork. Wilkins always could hand more of the work onto him and his staff. But he couldn't just do that. Not because the man was overworked – though he was. Every time Wilkins saw Alan, the young man looked more and more agitated and stressed. _Probably because of the all the bodies he's had to bury, I'd wager. The boy needs to learn how to relax._ But no, it wasn't that that was stopping him from handing more work to Alan. His Seneschal would cope somehow, he always did.

The reason, really, that he did so much of the boring work himself wasn't because of a lack of capable subordinates to do it for it. No, the reason he couldn't just hand it off, the reason he did it all himself was because he was just so darn civic-minded! If you were going to have a job, you may as well do it right, and you may as well do it yourself. And he had two.

So, sure, he was a Dark Warlock of rare power heading a vast conspiracy to gain wealth and power and to influence events across the kingdom to his fancy – much like his father and grandfather and his father and his father, _ad nauseum_ for the last four hundred years – but he was, like all those ancestors had been, also the baron of the third largest barony in the Kingdom.

_And golly gee, if they could do both jobs, and do them well, then gosh - so can I!_

Which would be why, he considered, he was reading this report on crop yields in the western marches of the barony.

He was interrupted again by a light tapping on the door. “Come in.” He told Alan Finch – no one else would bother him at this time of the evening, and he would only do so if whatever it was was deadly serious.

The door opened slowly, and sure enough, it was Alan. The young man walked in, wearing his customary nervous and overly serious expression. _That boy is always like that. He needs to lighten up! Enjoy himself!_ Wilkins decided then that finding a way to brighten his seneschal's mood would be a new project of his.

“What is it, Alan?” Wilkins asked.

“Ahm...I'm afraid I have some bad news, your grace.”

“Bad news?” Wilkins shook his head. “Can't say care much for bad news. Always the worst kind of news. And it always ruins a good day.” He gestured at Alan. “Continue.”

“Ahm...there's – that is to say, your grace, I've learned-”

“Alan, please.” Wilkins interrupted. “How many times have I told you: 'Don't call me 'your grace'? Its too darn stiff and formal! If you can't bring yourself to call me Richard, at least just call me Sir, or Baron Wilkins. They're not quite so stifling, at least.”

“Ah...yes, your – sir. Yes Sir.” Alan Finch managed to stammer out.

Wilkins smiled broadly. “Good! Now, carry on. You were saying?”

“An....an unattached Agent of the Black Thorn has been spotted inside the city, Baron Wilkins.”

Wilkins took a breath. Not a deep breath, but a light, normal breath. Carefully, slowly, he stood up from his desk and walked over to the window – taking a moment to push his chair in – and looked out of it, onto Olvikun City below, resting as it did at the foot of the hill that Wilkins Castle sat upon. He clasped his hands behind his back.

The Black Thorn. Bad news indeed, they were. Eternal sticks in the mud, also. Always trying to interfere with him and his plans. And, he hated to admit it, their network was more powerful than his. He had never seen first hand the magical skill of the trio of sorcerers that led the Order, so he didn't know how he matched up against them. But while his network ranged across just the Kingdom of Arenso, the Black Thorn ranged across the entire _continent._

It was odd to find one of their operatives in Olvikun, though. Wilkins had thought that past experience had taught the three mages never to send any of their agents into his city again. As far as he could tell, they knew his network was based here; but the Black Thorn didn't know that the mysterious warlock from Olvikun City that stymied them where he could, and Baron Richard Wilkins III, were the same man. Which was quite helpful. It would be such a bother for the Daughters of Sineya to find out that he used dark magics and trafficked with demons. They'd be no real threat if they _did_ find out, granted, but Slayer blood was always so hard to get out of the carpet and his clothes.

“Which one.” There were only so many unattached agents in the Order, perhaps twenty, at his last count. Which one they had sent would tell him what they were planning.

“Lilah Morgan.” Alan supplied. “Also...she's traveling with three members of Rupert Giles's group, from up in the Free City of Kayden.”

“That old Watcher?” Wilkins turned to Alan. “Well now. Any indication as to why _they_ are traveling with her?”

“None. They are staying for one night at the Golden Goblin. There's, ah, no indication they are staying long term.”

“That's something at least.” Wilkins considered. “Have they done anything else?”

“One of them bought a number of supplies from the local Alchemists' Guild, and then a lot of holy water from the Church of Adun.”

“I see. Well, gosh, now I'm hungry; bad news always seems to have that effect on me. Go find Scodran, and tell him to get a virgin's heart out of storage.” Fortunately for Alan, Wilkins was looking out the window again, and so didn't see the Seneschal grow pale and nearly throw up.

“Y-Yes sir.” Finch stammered out, then nearly ran from the room.

**Next Time, on Red Moon Rises:** _ Darla and Company make their way out of Sunnydale Town, human cattle in tow, as Luke and his group reach their destination first. When the two Children of the Master meet for the first time in centuries, though, things don't go as planned. _


	15. Vampire Versus Vampire, Round I

**Disclaimer:**  Not mine.

Thanks to Starway Man, my Beta-Reader, as ever.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 15: Vampire versus Vampire, Round I

**18 to 24 Days until the Red Moon**

_Outside of Castle Maestro_

_North of Sunnydale Town_

The procession of vampires, coming in carts and riding on horses, had to be seen to be believed as it approached its destination.

The undead were out in numbers tonight, bringing along human cargo, blood bags to supplement what would have to be a diet of almost entirely animal blood, heading for the Master's prison as the convey suddenly halted.  Everyone stopped moving simultaneously, as if they were one entity, merely by a raised hand from Darla.

It was somewhat difficult for Darla to maintain her focus, so to speak. Recent events, such as Angel's attempted deception and treachery, Jesse's incompetence, and some members of the Chase household escaping the castle alive, had definitely put the blonde vampire on edge. Made her want to lash out and bathe in blood, to scream and tear apart those who had made her angry. But Darla knew she had to put all that behind her (for now); at the moment, she had more important matters to deal with.

“Luke is already here.” She said softly, staring at the castle. “We're too late.”

“The Red Moon hasn't risen yet, my Lady.” A robed vampire said from behind her. “There is still time for you to procure the favored place at the Master's side, once he is released from his prison.”

Darla dismissed the sycophantic words with a simple hand gesture. “Luke has control of the castle, you fool. And we are not equipped  for a siege. Neither are we able to simply assault the walls to force our way.”

“Silly Grandmother. You don't need to do that!” Drusilla said, giggling.

Darla turned to Spike, her temper hovering around boiling point. “Shut her up, Spike, or-”

“Ms. Edith says that the naughty shadowman will open the doors for us.” Drusilla giggled again. “Naughty shadowman!”

Darla latched onto those words. “Shadowman?” There was only one being she knew of that such a term could accurately describe. Julian Parthenos. Of course, his humanity was quite a bit in doubt, but...

“Naughty?” Darla turned around at the not-entirely-unexpected sound of Julian's voice. “Your words wound me, Drusilla. I'll have you know, my dear, that I'm perfectly well behaved.”

Darla scoffed at that. “Well behaved? I'll believe that when I see it.” The vampire scowled; out here in the open, there were no shadowy corners for Parthenos to hide in. And yet he was still able to turn the darkness of the night, in the area he stood, into darkness too solid even for vampire eyes to penetrate. “Curse you, Julian; why do you always conceal yourself like that? You should know it doesn't protect you – the patch of darkness you're hiding in now is too small for me to miss you, were I to attack.”

“Well, it is trite but true for me to say that darkness is what I am, Darla.” Julian replied. Then his voice came from some distance behind the undead matriarch, as the patch of solid darkness simply vanished before her eyes. Darla turned and saw another one, where he was now. “Not to mention, it is how I get around. Were I to stand in mere shadow, I'd be a sitting duck for you and your minions. But such talk is pointless distraction, let us get down to business. Believe it or not, I'm here to help you.”

“Really?" Darla said scornfully. "Well, that isn't comforting at all. Because Luke is still the one who is paying for your services, no? So forget it, mercenary, I'm not paying you a damned thing.”

“Well, to tell you the truth, I never expected otherwise. But the thing is, Darla, I don't get my money from Luke until the Master rises. And sad to say, but the old bat-nose can't rise if your two factions of the Order of Aurelius fight each other until you're both easy prey for the Daughters of Sineya." Julian said patiently, still invisible in the darkness. "And so, I aim to persuade Luke of the necessity of sharing his castle and its grounds with you and yours. Until good old Heinrich Nest finally rises from the prison he was put in six hundred years ago, of course.”

“You dare speak the Master's name!?” The robed vampire from before demanded, launching himself at Julian. It was a foolish thing to do, but then the acolyte was fairly young, had a temper and was too inherently convinced of his undead superiority.

A black tendril of solid darkness wove its way out of Julian's place of concealment and wrapped itself around the vampire's neck, lifting him several feet off the ground. With practiced ease, the tendril flung the undead creature back a dozen feet before vanishing back into the patch of darkness.

“Yes. I dare. I dare a lot of things, actually. But if you want me to ensure that Luke doesn't let his ego get in the way of your shared goals – and my payday – then you'd best make sure that none of your minions try that again, Darla.” The undead woman got the distinct impression that the human (if that was what he was) was  _smiling_. "Do we understand each other?"

“Yes. None of them will interfere with you.” Darla said negligently.

“Good.” And then the patch was gone completely.

“What the hell was that all about? Who was that bleeding tosser?” Spike demanded. It was amazing how he had managed to stay quiet up until now, but the Britillian vampire could no longer remain silent.

“Julian Parthenos.” Darla answered in a bored tone of voice. “Either a human skilled in the magic of shadows, some kind of darkness-based demon, or something else. It is never clear, to say the least.”

For some reason neither sane vampire could understand, Drusilla immediately burst out in gales of mad laughter.

_Inside of Castle Maestro_

_North of Sunnydale Town_

“Darla and her forces have arrived outside the castle, my lord.” An armored vampire told Luke. “Simply say the word and the Three shall dispatch her, and bring her band of heretics into the flock.”

“Now that, my thick-skulled friend, would be a terrible idea.” The shadows in the corner of the ruined throne room that Luke had taken over for himself thickened, as Julian Parthenos arrived. “Not only because you would ignite a war that would decimate both your factions, but it would also result in a delay for me getting my just deserved pay. You and yours would be best served by allowing Darla and her minions to share the castle with you, as the night of the Red Moon approaches.”

“Sharing the Master's favor with heretics is-” The armored vampire started to protest.

“Oh, do shut the hell up, you pathetic fool.” Julian interrupted, sounding irritable for once. “Luke, I highly doubt Heinrich Nest would look on you with favor if you jeopardized his freedom, simply because you and Darla couldn't play nice together. And we both know if your two sides fight each other, you'll have less numbers with which to defend that imprisoned old buzzard when the Slayers come. And they  _ **will**_  come. In large numbers. Remember, either you or Darla must be alive – well, undead – for the Master to return. And do you really think you'll bring Darla and her faction to heel  _without_ killing her?”

“What do you care for the Master's will, Julian?” Luke demanded suspiciously.

“I don't. I care for my payday. The Master's return is when I get paid, so it is in my interests to ensure that the Master returns. And unlike you undead fools, I can see how the best way to accomplish that is to keep both your sides in as good a condition as possible, to face the Slayers. You may not trust me, Luke, but you can trust my desire to put my own interests ahead of anything else. A greedy man is the most trustworthy man in the world, provided you control the purse strings.” Julian said smoothly.

Luke could hear the man's arrogant smirk in those words. “If I were to accept your advice – merely for the sake of argument, mind you – how would you propose I go about making an arrangement with Darla, then? I can't simply stand aside and let her forces in without looking weak, Julian.”

“Actually, you can, if you frame it right.”

“'It' is not a painting, Julian.”

For a moment, Parthenos said nothing; the only sound coming from the patch of darkness being a long-suffering sigh. “Very well. Might I suggest you make the offer to Darla in the sense that it is simply an arrangement to deal with the Daughters of Sineya, for when they arrive? Once the Slayers have been dealt with and Heinrich is unleashed, your two sides can fight each other to your heart's content, for all I care. You can bring back the Old Ones. Open the Hellmouth. It matters little to me, as long as the issue of my payment is finally settled.”

Luke gestured at the armored vampire to leave, before he started discussing details with the invisible mercenary. After all, it wasn't as simple as just offering Darla an alliance against the Chosen Ones: she would suspect a trap, and might even go for a pre-emptive strike against him.

It was then that Luke remembered Drusilla...and her precognitive abilities...


	16. A Motley of Events

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. I do own the original parts of the setting, all original characters, and all original ideas and plot points. If you don't recognize it, it's very likely mine (or you could just be remembering something from the show wrong.)

Thanks to Starway Man, my Beta.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 16: A Motley of Events

**18 to 24 Days until the Red Moon**

_Sunnydale Church, Sunnydale Town  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

“Look, Angel, the vampires are gone. They've all headed up north, and there's nobody left in this town to protect. The civilians are all either dead, or they've run away. The only people left around here are you, me, B and the witch-bitch over there.” Faith gestured at the woman in question.

“Still as charming as ever, aren't you Faith?” Amy shot back at the dark-haired Slayer. “And I'm not entirely sure Angel qualifies as a person, technically speaking.”

“He's more of a person than you are, witch-bitch.” Faith replied, the venom clearly evident in her voice.

“Yes, Faith, very original with the name-calling. But the truth is, I AM a bitch - and proud of it.” Amy pointed out calmly. “I'm also a bitch who can charbroil all three of you. So maybe you don't want to piss me off, hm?” Not that Buffy was in the church at the moment to hear the threat.

“And yet, you haven't done it. Or even tried to run after Buffy drafted you.” Angel pointed out skeptically.

“Well, what can I say? I'm in a bit of transitional period at the moment. My previous employer is dead.” Amy pointed out. “And I doubt that his heir is going to have the money to pay me for services rendered, once this is all over.”  _Not after the vampires looted the castle's treasury._  Amy knew they had done that, as she'd checked. “That means I'm going to have to find a new employer to pay the bills, sooner or later. And I'd prefer not having the Daughters of Sineya being out for my blood while I'm doing it. Time is money, after all.”

“I've said it before, and  I'll say it again. When you get thrown out of the coven for practicing dark magic, you shouldn't be able to go and get rich at a posh, cushy job. It's supposed to be a  _punishment!_ ”

“Oh, yes, and of course - the people in this world just  _have_  to behave in the way you want them to? If I didn't know better, Faith, I'd think you're jealous.” Amy replied, smirking. “Or were you wishing you could market your talents, the same way I do mine? We could make a good team, you and I. Slayer and Witch, for hire on retainer. I know quite a few nobles that would pay through the nose for a personal Slayer enforcer.” Then she laughed. “And you're right; I have heard it before, from you. And I'm sure that when the red-headed bitch shows up with your reinforce-”

Amy's speech was interrupted by Faith lunging at her. But before the Slayer's fist could connect with the witch's face, Faith found herself lifted bodily off the ground and then flipped upside down as Amy turned her hand. The Daughter of Sineya found herself stuck with her head just a few inches above the ground.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Amy tutted sternly. “None of that, now, Faith. Or the next time, I'll let you fall on your head.” Out of the corner of her eye Amy saw Angel approaching her from the side. She held out her free hand towards him and the vampire stopped moving. “ Come on, vampire. Just try it. I  **dare**  you.”

Angel suspected that the witch was far more willing to kill him, rather than Buffy or Faith. While it was true that neither of the two Slayers would just shrug and accept his destruction at Amy's hands, the ensouled creature had his doubts whether the leaders of the Agaden Temple would care enough about his demise  to send out a call to arms for Amy's blood. If she killed Faith or Buffy, on the other hand...

Yes, it was one thing to slay the tamed, ensouled vampire affiliated with the Daughters of Sineya. It was another thing to kill an actual Daughter herself. If the Slayers knew you were responsible for such an act, they never stopped hunting you.  _Like Spike._  Angel knew his grandchilde had slain at least two Slayers in his time. He also knew personally that the High Priestess Nikki Wood had sworn an Oath before Sineya to kill William the Bloody herself, or die trying. Angel himself had only escaped ritual execution because of his soul – Angelus had killed Slayers as well, though he had found maiming them beyond repair to be far more appealing, aesthetically, than just killing them.

“Amy-” Angel quickly cut himself off when he saw the witch's eyes go black.

“I wonder.” Amy said slowly and thoughtfully. “How many times could I bounce your head off of the floor, before it cracked open like a melon?”

Faith forced out a laugh, masking just the slightest hint of fear that she felt. “And here I thought you said that you didn't want me and my sister Slayers out for your head on a pike.”

“This  _thing_  Buffy always wanted to fuck doesn't exactly count. And you're just praying your little heart out that I meant that.” Amy answered with a sneer. “And really, that is a good question.  _Am_  I going to kill you?”

“If you're gonna kill me.” Faith shot back acidly. “Then can you please just go ahead and do it, and spare me the boring evil monologue?”

“It's just so funny, though, isn't it?” Amy went on, ignoring Faith's comment. “I mean, big, bad Faith Lehane hanging here upside down, at my mercy. You've developed quite the reputation for yourself since the old days, you know. Throughout the continent, you're known as the one who killed Kakistos. And the one who killed Balthazar and his minions, the El Eliminati. You and Buffy even destroyed the Glove of Myhnegon. And yet, I could  _kill you with a snap of my fingers!_ ” Amy laughed cruelly. “I love it!”

For a change, Buffy didn't open with a quip or witty phrase as she arrived back in the church. She just threw a knife at Amy's back, after hearing that last sentence. Unfortunately, it was to no avail. The witch turned with preternatural speed and waved her hand, sending the knife spinning off to the side and into Angel's left arm. Or, at least, it would have ended up in Angel's arm had the vampire not sidestepped the errant weapon.

Unfortunately, by redirecting her attention to the dagger, Amy had to release her hold on Faith, causing the Slayer to fall to the ground in an unceremonious heap and hit her head on the cold, hard, stone floor. “Agggggh, that hurt!”

Amy's eyes returned to their natural coloration and she started to laugh, dark mirth evident in the sound. “You'll recover, Faith. And we'll have to do this again sometime, Buffy. Maybe next time, you'll even win the round.” Still chortling, Amy retreated into a shadow-covered corner of the chapel.

“Hey!” Buffy demanded. “What is this? What, was all that some kind of sick game to you?” She angrily started to follow after Amy, but Angel put a hand on her arm gently to stop her.

“Don't. She's actually hoping you'll follow after her.” The vampire counseled the young woman.

“She  _wants_  her skull smashed in?” Buffy demanded.

“She wants you to try. It'll give her the excuse she needs to be able to justify her actions, once the leaders at the Temple hear what happened. Don't you think Amy knows that?” Angel asked, as understanding finally began to dawn in Buffy's eyes and Faith heaved herself up off the floor, grumbling over how neither of them seemed to notice her head was bleeding from a minor cut.

**16 to 22 Days until the Red Moon**

_Nonexistent Location_

“Events are moving more quickly than we anticipated.”

“The prophecies of the Dark Oracle are indeed an unexpected addition to the situation.”

“My seers assured me that we had decades, if not centuries, before we needed to worry about them.”

“Naturally you had them killed?”

“Of course. The Black Thorn cannot accept failure, least of all from its seers.”

“Good.”

“But yes. The new circumstances necessitate a change in strategy.”

“Existing plans for dealing with current foes must be changed.”

“Many things must be changed.”

“Contingency plans must be changed.”

“Targets must be changed.”

“Allies must be changed.

“Pawns must be changed.”

“The Red Moon is rising, yes, and so the Dark Oracle's prophecy regarding it and the Master is indeed coming into play. But we have no reason to believe that more of the Dark Oracle's prophecies will come to pass on a timescale relevant to us.”

“The Seers agree. The vagaries of fate will bring more of his prophecies to the fore.”

“Forgive my skepticism, but wasn't trusting the Seers what got us into this mess in the first place?”

“These are different Seers.”

“The future is to be forged by us, not to be written by seers, oracles and prophets. We are the Black Thorn, and we are the agents of destiny.”

“Prophecy is a weapon, to be used like any other.”

“Then how do we use this one? How do we use the upcoming prophecies of the Dark Oracle to our advantage, as weapons to achieve our ends?”

“Do we even know which ones are coming next?”

“My question exactly.”

“One of your questions, you mean. Of us all, you have always been the most skeptical of prophecy.”

“I trust what I can see, feel, and destroy. My armies have served the Black Thorn more effectively than your mysticism.”

“And how do your armies know who to target? The Black Thorn is a collective whole. Your armies are no more the cause of our success than my mystics.”

“Or my agents, spies and operatives. We are three in one. We are the Black Thorn.”

“We are the Black Thorn.”

“We are the Black Thorn.”

“It is time for the meddlers to be removed. The Master is simply the start. The Eye must be closed.”

“The Eye is the greatest meddler of them all.”

“More so than Him?”

“Indeed. The Eye must be brought low. And It will destroy itself, with its own weight.”

“Then why are you proposing we take action?”

“Because self-destruction requires a little push.”

“And what do you propose we use, as this push?”

“The man of the tower.”

“That is a foolish proposition.”

“Not at all. We let the Eye do it itself.”

“Conceivable. How do you propose it do what it has not done, nor attempted for so long?”

“The Black Thorn facilitates all.”

“Then it is resolved? The Tower will bring low the Eye.”

“It is resolved.”

“It is resolved.”

**15 to 21 Days until the Red Moon**

_Temple of Sineya  
Agaden Forest_

“The tidings are not good. I have been unable to determine any way to restore the bindings on the Master, should he escape.” Nikki Wood, High Priestess of the Agaden Temple, looked up at Janna Kalderash, the chief witch of the coven based at the Agaden Temple. “I cannot find any way to recast them, either. I can't find the original spell that was used.”

“What do you mean, you can't find it?” Nikki demanded of the witch.

“I mean that the binding spell is nowhere to be found in our records. I mean that we have no idea what spell was used to bind and seal away a vampire of the Master's power. I mean that should that monster escape his prison, there is no way to put him back in whatever hole he was stuck in before. I mean that if and when he gets loose, our only option will be to destroy the Master using more traditional methods.”

“Which is an impossible task, if the histories are to be believed.” Nikki pointed out dryly.

“Then don't let him escape.” Janna suggested. “Prevent his children from completing the ritual!”

“So you have made some progress on that front, at least?” Nikki asked sarcastically.

“Indeed.” Janna opened a book to facing sketches and handed it to Nikki. One sketch was of a woman, and labeled 'Darla' and the other was of a man and labeled 'Luke'. “Darla and her brood we are already familiar with, but the other still-at-large childe of the Master is Luke. He's never come to the attention of the Agaden Temple, before.”

_Wonderful._  Nikki set the book down, gesturing for Janna to go on.

“From the best we can figure, the way that the Master is going to be freed is going to draw on a rather obscure ritual. It is only possible  _because_  of the Red Moon. When the moon rises red, it brings with it immense magical power – particularly of the darker shades of magic. The intent is to use the magic of the Red Moon to transfer the power of the blood drained by Luke, Darla or both in that night, under specific ritual circumstances, to the Master, thus giving him enough energy to break the bindings himself.”

“So, in other words, you're saying that if we kill both Darla and Luke, then there is no ritual.” Nikki pointed out the obvious.

“Effectively, yes.” Janna confirmed. “But we have to be sure-” 

The magic user was interrupted when the door was opened, and a young red-haired Slayer quickly walked in. Janna didn't recognize this one's face. Probably one of the newer ones recently out of training and newly flushed with their full power, given how enthusiastically she'd opened the door.

Fortunately, all doors in a Temple of Sineya were more than capable of withstanding the strength of a Slayer. It saved a lot of time and money for all concerned.

“Madame High Priestess.” The Slayer started. “If you will forgive the interruption...”

“Go ahead, Vi.” Nikki nodded. “What is it?”

“Ahm...there are... it's... well, there are some people at the main gate, demanding to be let in. And to speak with you...”

“Who?”

“Ah...well...it's, uhm...there are roughly a thousand of them, I think, and...they say that they're the survivors...of Sunnydale.”

“The survivors of Sunnydale?!”  _Damn. Dear gods above. The vampires have moved faster than I thought they would._  “I'll go and meet them. On my authority, gather all the Daughters in the temple and tell them to get ready to leave for Sunnydale first thing tomorrow morning.”

“As you command.” Vi nodded and hurriedly left the room. 

Nikki turned back to Janna. “Your best protégé. Willow. She's from Sunnydale, correct?”

Janna nodded. “I'll send her to you at the main gate. And I'll gather the rest of the coven to make ready to move out with the Slayers.”

“Good.” Nikki got up and left her private chambers.

**15 to 21 Days until the Red Moon**

_Temple of Sineya Main Gates  
Agaden Forest_

Despite himself, and despite knowing full well that it was wrong, Xander had to admit that he had grown to  _hate_  his fellow townsfolk over the past week or so.

He hated all of them. Hated the pitiful, confused and terrified mass that constituted the surviving residents of Sunnydale Town. Leading them from the township to this temple in the Agaden Forest had been like herding insane cats around on one leg, and Lady Chase had been no help at all. She mainly just stared blankly at nothing, still in shock, presumably. It took a great deal of prompting from her daughter to get the noblewoman even to eat and drink.

On the other hand, and even though Xander truly hated to admit this, Cordelia herself had been somewhat helpful. Not only in supporting him as he walked, but Lord Chase's offspring was obviously used to having her orders obeyed instantly, and that air of command had proven incredibly useful in keeping things from falling apart  _completely._

Unfortunately, not falling apart completely didn't mean it didn't fall apart a little. That was why it had taken them five days to make what should have been a three day trip, even with a group as large as theirs.

Drumming the fingers of his right hand against his good leg, Xander waited impatiently for the Slayer that had left to go get the High Priestess of the temple to come back. There were still four Slayers there at the front gate.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, a dark-skinned woman walked out of the temple's main doors and approached the gate. She was significantly older than the Slayers at the gate, around the age of Lady Chase, perhaps.

The woman finally reached the main gates. “Rona, Molly, Chao-Ahn, Amanda.” Nikki said to the four Slayers on guard duty. “Go into the Temple. Get ready to move out at dawn, along with the others.”

“Yes, High Priestess!” The four Slayers said nearly in unison, before heading into the temple.

The woman – the High Priestess, he presumed – approached Xander, examining his House Chase guard uniform. “Are you the one in charge of these people?”

“In all but name.” Xander replied. “Lady Chase and her daughter Cordelia are the local nobility and nominally in command of the refugees, but Lady Chase hasn't spoken a word since she saw her husband get killed by the vampires, and Cordelia is busy with her.” He extended a hand. “Xander Harris, formerly of the House Chase Guard.”

The woman didn't shake his offered hand, and Xander withdrew it, looking stung by the insult. The Slayer simply said, “I am Nikki Wood, High Priestess of the Agaden Temple. Where are Buffy and Faith?”

_Didn't you send that Angel character as well?_  “They were still in Sunnydale the last time we saw them, along with Angel and Amy, holed up in a church. They told me to bring the survivors here, and tell you that they needed backup. Lots and lots of backup.” Xander's expression turned into a snarl. “Fucking vampires took over the entire town.”

“Amy?”  _What the hell is that idiot girl doing there...if it is her..._

“Amy Madison. Previously the witch on retainer to Lord Chase. Something of a bitch.”  _I'd say she'd fit right in with you._  “That Buffy person decided to draft her into your service, as I recall.”

“She drafted that-!? What the hell was that idiot girl thinking?” Nikki demanded.

“She's your Slayer, Nikki.” Xander replied sarcastically. “I wouldn't want to guess what you Daughters of Sineya think.”

“Who are you to speak to me like that? You're just a normal human!” Nikki Wood looked greatly offended at Xander's tone.

“Yeah, that I am. I'm a normal human who's killed several vampires, seen my best friend become one, fought him and lived to tell the tale. I'm a normal human who went through days and nights of  _hell_  in Sunnydale and then getting these people here, after you and your Slayers couldn't or wouldn't help them, and this _normal human_  is going to -” Harris stopped mid sentence as he saw a red-headed young woman roughly his own age approach the gate. “...Willow?”

“Xander?” The redhead asked slowly, almost disbelieving. She then rushed forward and threw herself into his arms, almost causing Xander to fall over. Willow cried out, “Xander, thank all the gods you're still alive!”

Curiously, Cordelia had no idea why the sight of her ex-guard being hugged by another woman annoyed her no end, as she and her mother finally made their way to the main gates of the temple.

**Next Time On The Red Moon Rises:**   _Willow and Xander re-unite, and Amy continues her seemingly downward trajectory into insanity...but is there something else in play? Meanwhile, events conspire to get in the way of Wesley, Lilah, Gunn and Fred, and can Luke and Darla keep getting along?_


	17. The Rising Tide of Chaotic Events

**Disclaimer:**  Not mine, never been mine. I own all original characters, content, plot points and setting concepts.

Thanks to Starway Man, my Beta

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 17: The Rising Tide of Chaotic Events

**15 to 21 Days until the Red Moon**

_Temple of Sineya  
Agaden Forest_

“Start from the beginning and explain everything.” Nikki Wood ordered Xander as he sat across from her, in front of her desk. For her part, the high priestess was standing up.

Unfazed by that, though, Xander looked the Slayer squarely in the eye. “Am I your prisoner?” He looked meaningfully at the closed double doors to the side. “Or can I just get up, walk out and leave?”

“No. You aren't a prisoner. But we can't exactly let you wander around the temple freely without supervision.” Nikki replied, trying to be patient with the former House Chase guard.

“So, in other words that aren't absolute bullshit, I am a prisoner, and you just don't want to admit it. Why?  Because you thought I'd be too dense to figure it out on my own? Honestly, if that's the case, do I  _ **look**_  like someone with a sign on his back that says 'complete idiot'?”  _Well, clearly...Jesse seemed to think so..._ Harris felt yet another stab of pain as he remembered his old friend, who was now one of the undead.

_I promise Jesse...I'll kill that thing wearing your face one day..._

One of the first lessons a child of this day and age learned concerning vampires, something that was drummed into them over and over again as they grew up – it was that a vampire wearing the face of a friend, or a loved one, or just someone you knew...it  ** _wasn't_**  that person you knew, not anymore. No matter where in the world you were born and raised, it would be beaten into your head over and over and over again...vampires were real, and they would kill you given the slightest opportunity. The collective fear of the menace that was the undead was perhaps the only thing that united all levels and aspects of human society. In some ways, said society was oriented around it. In others, of course, not so much.

_Not that being told that it isn't the person you knew over and over again really helps, when push comes to shove..._

Because Xander had had a chance to end the Jesse vampire, roughly a week ago...but he hadn't. He'd let it pass, avoided it...refused to 'kill' his friend... a friend that was already dead...

Before Xander could muse further about all that, though, the High Priestess interrupted his thought processes, her fingers steepled. Nikki didn't seem amused by Xander's suggestion; both that she thought he was a fool, and that she didn't think he would figure it out.

“If you really want to be a prisoner that badly, I've no doubt that we could manage to find room in the temple dungeons for you. Perhaps you could share a cell with one of the training demons?” she asked. The Daughters of Sineya kept a number of non-sentient demons in holding cells beneath their various temples for the final test before a Slayer was allowed to operate alone in the outside world. No Slayer was allowed to die in the tests – more experienced ones, as well as a witch or two were always on hand for every such test – but a Slayer that failed simply failed, and would have to retake the test, eventually.

“Now.” Nikki continued, voice as cold as ice, “explain to me everything that happened in Sunnydale between the arrival of the vampires and you leaving the town. Before I lose all patience.”

Xander rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You think  _going_ to intimidate me into obedience? Woman, compared to what I had to deal with back in Sunnydale, you're not even remotely frightening.” And this was no mere bluster...the high priestess was a mite scary, but compared to the vampires, even the ones he had managed to kill... Father Gabriel had always said it was one of Adun's gifts to man, the deep, abiding fear of undead.

Xander was a little more skeptical about divine origins for a very healthy amount of fear for something that could throw you through a wall, tear your throat out and then turn you into a walking corpse. Then again, that was probably just because Xander had never liked Father Gabriel all that much.

Nikki growled, “Are you trying to help the vampires' cause?”

“No.” Xander declared. “But I do have a big problem with authority figures like you, acting like they can just order me around like a big dumb dog. And unlike Lord Chase, you even aren't paying me for services rendered. If you had just asked me nicely, I would have already told you what you wanted to know.”

Nikki offered a quick mental prayer to Sineya for strength and patience, and then took a deep breath. “Very well. Then please tell me what happened in Sunnydale, with the vampires?” Just barely managing to avoid gritting her teeth as she asked the question.

“They attacked and killed everybody they could, of course. Lady Chase, her daughter Cordelia and I were the only survivors of the vampire attack on the Lordship's castle. As for which vampires I personally encountered, apart from Jesse there was a crazy female one with black hair, plus a jackass with blonde hair and a leather coat that apparently can bounce swords off it - he said something about-”

“-it being enchanted?” Nikki finished the young man's sentence for him.

“Yeah...” Xander saw the hard, hateful look in the Slayer's eyes. “You know something I don't about all that?”

“Of course.” Nikki replied. “He stole that coat from me, actually. Took it from me a few decades ago, after he thought I was dead.” She looked past him. “Congratulations; you actually survived a meeting with Spike and Drusilla. Next to Angelus and Darla, they're the most ruthless, bloodthirsty, destructive pair of vampires vampires in the Five Kingdoms. Young, too, for all that bloodshed. There's always been something about them, something that separates them from your ordinary vampire. Ten Slayers went after him back then, the youngest of them myself...and I was the only one left afterwards. And even then, I survived only by playing dead.”

Nikki suddenly drew her face into a fierce snarl. “It will truly be a joy facing him again.” She looked Xander in the eye, and this time, the rage he saw there really was the scariest thing he'd seen lately. “Now tell me the rest.”

So Xander told her, without comment or complaint.

_Temple of Sineya  
Agaden Forest_

Xander looked the redhead directly in the eye, and said something very hard for her to hear. “Jesse's dead, Willow.”

They had, for the last hour or so after Nikki had kicked Xander out of her private chambers, avoided the gigantic demon in the room. Mostly the childhood friends had been talking about their lives since they had last met, their infrequent letters not enough to get any sort of real insight in to what the other was like nowadays. Willow had told him about Tara, and Xander couldn't help but smile at Willow's babbling about the other witch...

But eventually, there was no point trying to avoid it any longer...he'd had to tell her the bad news. And he had.

Willow said nothing for a moment, her green eyes immediately huge and disbelieving. “Jesse's...no...no, he's not...I mean, when you say dead, you don't mean dead dead...do you? You mean he's sleeping like the dead, or, or, or, dead drunk, or as thick as the dead, or or-” Willow's babbling quickly reached the point of incomprehensibility much quicker than Harris remembered she was capable of.

Xander said nothing, just looking at her. His face was unreadable, like a stone statue. Seeing this, Willow's babbling wound down, and she realized he'd meant exactly what he'd said. Wordlessly, she broke into tears and embraced Xander. Harris just held her, not saying anything...not sure what he should or could say...

Finally, Willow pulled away. “How...how did he die...?” She had already figured out it had to be vampires...but...had Jesse died...bravely? Or...begging for his life?Or did they kill him in his sleep....?

“Willow...I don't know how he died...I just...I don't know details, I wasn't there. All I know is one of them found him...killed him...drained his blood...turned him into one of them. Jesse...he's a vampire now, Will. We talked that one time, while he was trying to get Cordelia and Lady Chase.” Xander was surprised he'd managed to get all that out so calmly...but he'd had time over the past week or so...time to accept it...and he'd seen the result...seen the demon that was wearing Jesse's face. “Jesse's gone, and now there's a demon walking around that used to be him. A demon that I'm going to kill. I may not have been able to end Jesse before...but now? The next time we meet...”

“Xander! No! You don't have to do that! I mean, the Daughters of Sineya can - you don't have to kill Jesse...look, you may know, here, in your head,” She put a hand on his head, “That he's not the person we grew up with anymore. But...in your heart...you can't have accepted that...I know...in my heart...I haven't...” Her voice trailed off.

Xander shook his head firmly. “You weren't there, Willow. You didn't see what he's become, you didn't witness the things he did...the things he  ** _would_**  have done, if he'd gotten the opportunity. Which includes raping Lord Chase's daughter, either before or after killing her. But even if that wasn't the case, I'm the one that needs to let him rest in peace. Jesse was my friend. I have to be the one to kill the demon that's inhabiting his corpse nowadays.”

“No!” Willow yelled.

“Willow, I have to!”

“Xander! Please! I've just lost one childhood friend...I don't want lose you too...” She embraced him again, crying once more.

Too bad for the witch, Xander knew he couldn't tell Willow what she wanted to hear. He had to be the one to kill the vampire that Jesse had become. 

**17 to 23 days until the Red Moon**

_Sunnydale Church, Sunnydale Town  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

“So...why exactly are we still staying in the church, if the vampires aren't even around anymore?” Amy asked them all as the sun set once more over Sunnydale town. “There's any number of better lodgings available all over the place, so I could at least sleep in another building; and you wouldn't have to have someone watching me every night, like I know you people do when you think I'm asleep.” Amy's eyes were solid black again – they had been the entire day, but at least the witch hadn't tried to kill her companions – or even use any magic on them. Or acted particularly insane. Just...moderately nuts, like she'd already been. A vicious, evil bitch who they probably  _really_  shouldn't be keeping around.

“Like I'd ever trust you out on your own.” Faith said, not taking her eyes off Amy, flipping a knife idly in one hand. “You'd probably try to burn this place down if you weren't in here too.”

Amy shrugged. “I considered it. Not worth my time and energy, though. If I decide I want to kill you, by the way, I'd probably just bounce you against the walls a few times, see if I can make your head crack open like a melon.”

_And there it is again. Why am I keeping her around again?_  Buffy knew the answer...still...

“But I've been asking myself lately – why are you people still insisting that I stay, anyway? Truth is, you can't stop-” Amy barely managed to magic off to the side the knife Faith threw at her, letting it clatter on the stone floor. “-me from leaving, so why do you not want me to go?”

“If I can't just kill her, then I say, make her get lost.” Faith said to her sister Slayer, deliberately ignoring the witch. “Fuck it; the farther she is from us, the better I'll sleep.”

“No. She stays. We may need her.”  _In fact, I have a distinctly nasty feeling that we will..._ Slayers were taught to trust those gut instincts...so despite her better judgment, Buffy was sure that this was the right decision. “Besides, if she really wanted to leave, we wouldn't be able to stop her. So why don't you just leave, Amy?”

“Why don't I leave?” Amy looked at the Chosen Two, then got up, walking towards the exit. “Why don't I leave?” She actually cackled for a moment, standing at the doorway. “Can't you feel it? Can't you feel it?! The energy! The power! The power!” She held her hands out a moment, out of supplication or lust; it was impossible to tell which.

“What power?” Angel asked slowly, worry in his voice as he finally appeared out of the church's shadows.

“Oh, come on, Angel, don't tell me you can't feel it as well!" She then turned to the Slayers and said, "It's calling to him. I can hear him demanding to answer the call.”

“Who are you talking about!?” Buffy interrupted “Calling to who? What's calling? What are you talking about?!”

“You fool. You blind, lust-filled idiot! It's calling to the demon inside your would-be lover. We're standing on the Mouth of Hell, Buffy. Can you even imagine the power it can emit? We're standing on the Mouth of Hell, and after all these centuries, it's finally waking up.” Amy glared at the blonde Daughter of Sineya.

“And it's going to drive you mad if you keep tapping its power. You're human. You can't-”

“Who are you to tell me what I can or can't do, you pathetic excuse for a demon? Why do you even think I came to this nowhere little town?” Amy interrupted the vampire. “It certainly wasn't the money. I could have gotten much better pay from one of the great Merchant Houses. Believe me, I had several such offers. I came to Sunnydale for the Hellmouth! For exactly this sort of dark energy!”

“How did you know...I mean, I've never heard of this...Hellmouth...?” Buffy said uncertainly. “I mean, the High Priestess would have told us about -”

“You really think so? Well, we've already established that you're an idiot, Buffy, but in this case, I'll admit - even that stuck-up bitch Nikki Wood didn't know.” Amy interrupted with a smirk. “Come on; why do you think I spent my time researching everything in those dark magic texts I stole from the coven's library? No one had even read those books in decades. Those idiots just keep the power locked away. They should use it!” She threw her hands out and fireballs formed in them. Chuckling, Amy threw them both at Angel - just as Buffy and Faith started to run at her. 

Oddly enough Angel, unfazed, just stood still. Moments before the fireballs reached him, Amy waved her hands and the fireballs vanished into puffs of smoke, dissipating harmlessly.

“You can relax.” Angel told the two Slayers, even as Buffy hugged him intensely before she let go, looking embarrassed. The vampire then added, “She was never going to kill me. Because Amy needs us alive...for now.”

“Oh? And why would that be?” Amy cocked her head. “I'm so thrilled to find out that you can read my mind, soul boy.”

“I don't need to read your mind to know how you think,  _witch_. You want this...Hellmouth. And unfortunately, it's got a bunch of vampires close by ready to do a ritual that will free their leader, and then stand at his side as the Master brings back the Old Ones. Which, I suspect, would ruin your plans to fully tap the Hellmouth for its foul power. And you're not going to try to face upwards of a hundred vampires all on your own. Why bother, when at least two dozen Slayers and at least half a dozen witches can show up and handle it all for you?”

Amy briefly looked impressed. “Got it in one, surprisingly.”

“You do realize that they'll never let you get away with what you're planning to do, right?” Angel added.

Bored again, Amy exhaled. “You act like they'll have a choice. Trust me, when I have the full power of the Hellmouth at my disposal...there won't be anything any of them can do. Especially not that little red-headed bitch.” She smiled. “I'm going to enjoy killing her, I can promise you that.”

"Just try it." Buffy growled, almost like a vampire. Luckily, Angel quickly managed to calm her down with just a touch, which didn't surprise anyone much. Then the former Angelus turned to face Amy, his face tight and drawn.

“You won't be killing anyone, I'm sure. You don't have the guts for it. Personally, I've killed hundreds, thousands of people. You? You've killed no one, apart from a few vampires. Besides, just looking at you - it's sad, really. You're still caught up in exacting petty revenge against Willow. There's so much you could be doing with your power, witch. Even without the energy from this Hellmouth, you could have established yourself as a real power in the magical world. Instead, you're going to throw your life away going up against Willow and the coven.” Angel briefly chuckled, shaking his head. “Have fun going exactly nowhere with your life, Amy Madison.”

“Yes, because such words of wisdom mean a great deal coming from you, Angelus. The legendary vampire who let himself be castrated by magic, and his **feelings**  for an idiotic, necrophiliac Slayer.” Amy headed for the front doors of the church without looking back. Before she left, the Madison woman said, “I'm going to find somewhere to spend the night without having to worry about one of you watching me while I'm sleeping. That's rather creepy.”

Faith watched Amy leave, not making any move to stop her. “Creepy? She's one to talk.”

**5 to 8 Days until the Red Moon**

_An Hour Away From Sunnydale Town  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

“We've almost reached Sunnydale Town.” Wesley said, rolling up the map and sticking it into his pack. “Just another hour or so, and we'll be there.” He grimaced at the thought.

Lilah saw the grimace and smirked. “You can already feel it, can't you? Creeping inside you, crawling inside your soul. Like spiders racing around, underneath your skin.”

Lilah's words, and her tone...it was worrying. “Feel what?” Fred demanded. “What are you talking about?”

“The Hellmouth.” Wesley answered her, gritting his teeth a little. “It must have awakened already, if even I can feel its dark energy this far out from its heart.”

“Why can't we feel it, then?” Gunn asked, then answered his own question. “'Cause you've got an in with the magic, or something like that?”

“In essence, yes.” Wesley affirmed. “I can't feel all that much of it, though, luckily. I'm not powerful enough of a spellcaster for that.” Wesley was strong on theory, knowledge, and understanding of the practice of magic...but he lacked the raw power to truly use that ability in any significant way.

“Should we be worried...?” Gunn asked slowly.

“If my eyes start going solid black, then you may want to give me a solid whack on the back of the head with something blunt. But otherwise, no. Right now, it's just giving me a headache.”

“And what happens when we get closer?” Fred asked, looking concerned.

“I don't know,” Wesley admitted. “The headache will get worse, certainly. But as long as I don't use magic much, if at all, then I should be fine.”

“Alright. But you don't mind if I keep an eye on you, all the same?” Gunn said, half-smirking.

“No, please do.” Wesley replied, then blinked against the sun as it came out from behind the cloud cover. “I do wish you'd warned me, Lilah.”

“No point. You have to feel it to understand it.”

“And we're still waiting on that so-called important information you say you've got.” Fred scoffed.

“If I told you now, woman, you simply wouldn't get it. Look, I don't want the world to end anymore than you do. So I'll tell you what you need to know, when you can actually use the information. Not one second before, and not one second after." Lilah said dismissively.

_That line is really getting old,_ Wesley thought to himself wearily, as he saw Fred and Gunn glare at the woman.  _And if it wasn't for the fact that I'm sure she's not lying about that part of it, I might actually have smothered Lilah in her sleep by now..._


	18. Crescendo of Events

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I own any and all original content, characters and interpretations. No money is being made off of this

**A/N:**  Overdue and too short, I know. I'm sorry. This chapter was slated to be shorter, from my notes, beforehand so that's what I wrote.

**A/N 2:**  Thanks to Starway Man, my beta.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 18: Crescendo of Events

**15 to 21 Days until the Red Moon**

_Castle Maestro  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

Like a pair of petulant children bickering over toys and unable to stay out of the other child's 'side of the room', the ancient castle where both Darla and Luke had taken up residence was split down the middle. And that was almost in the literal sense - a line of dried blood cut right through the central courtyard and extended vertically over all the levels and areas of the castle, neatly dividing it into two parts. Precious manpower was diverted from patrolling, hunting animals and rebuilding the castle's defenses to keep watch on that line at all points, vampires on both sides taking shifts during both night and day to make sure no violation occurred.

Each Childe of the Master fully expected the other to kill them or to order their death, even though they also knew that it was against their interests to be the one to kill the other...

Still, that was hardly surprising. Luke had no respect for Darla's intellect, thinking her little better than a glorified whore who had risen too far above her station. And Darla, by contrast, saw Luke as a brutish thug who had no understanding of subtlety.

And in all honesty, both of them were as right as they were wrong.

Every night the two undead creatures met, as the moon hung highest in the sky, to plan. Well, more accurately, to bicker.

“The Daughters of Sineya will come before the Master is freed.” Darla said harshly, preparing to lash out at Luke if he kept being so incredibly thick about this. “And your insistence on not preparing for their arrival will only doom our entire purpose for being here. This is our only chance to release the Master for another six hundred years, and I will not let your pettiness and inability to think tactically damn us!”

“I don't know what else you propose we do to 'prepare' for their arrival.” Luke replied sarcastically. “We will not be hiding within the walls of this fortress when the enemy comes, will we? You might be, perhaps, but then you're the coward with insufficient faith among us. We will go out and face the Slayers directly. Our victory has been foretold. The Slayers can assemble fifty of their warriors here, at most. We have over five hundred.”

“And what if you're wrong about how many of them will show up here?” Darla said scornfully. “Still, even if you're right, we'll have at least twenty-five less than that after charging into a hail of crossbows from the Slayers. Then we'll lose Amarra knows how many more to their witches – remember, Luke, they can do this little thing called  **throwing fireballs!**  Listen to me, damn it. We have the superior defensive position, and they must come to us. All we need to do is hold them off long enough to complete the ritual! Once free, the Master will easily be able to kill them all, that much is obvious. But until then, we shouldn't leave ourselves open to any needless risk!”

“You sound like a terrified human, making little plots and plans against the inevitability of death. Our victory is foretold, and assured. It has been written.” Luke replied with an undisguised sneer.

“That the Master will be freed under a Red Moon, yes, granted. But the prophecy says nothing about  _ **which**_  Red Moon it will happen, you thick-witted fool!” Darla slapped him, her sharp nails digging into his cheek, drawing dark, almost black blood. Luke grabbed her hand and snapped her wrist with an easy motion.

“Your cowardice will damn you when the Master rises, Darla. And your followers will not continue to follow a coward. Your nights on this earth are numbered, and I look forward to your upcoming demise.” Luke growled.

“And I look forward to watching the Slayers end you, Luke!” Darla said, gritting her teeth against the pain in her wrist, the bones already starting to set and reconnect.

“The damned idiot. He will damn us all to failure!” Darla hissed as she stormed out of the courtyard, followed by her small entourage.

“Mistress,” A robed vampire interjected as he followed her, “Forgive me, but Luke may be right about your followers. Many of them do not share your prudence or appreciation for subtlety. You will lose some of them; they will defect to Luke's side if he tries to make this an issue.”

Darla cut off an angry snarl that rose to her lips in response. Unfortunately, Severan was correct, and Darla didn't believe in staking the messenger. It sent a bad example about delivering bad news. “How many will we lose?” she asked him after taking a moment to calm down.

“At least a hundred. Not so many that Luke will seek to press his advantage, but enough to upset the balance and increase the strength of his bargaining position. We will have to surrender some parts of the castle that we currently have to him.”

“Arrrgh! He's going to get them all killed, with his typically male plan. Charge in there with a frontal assault, all fangs and fury. He's going to waste the bulk of our forces, and to no worthwhile end. All right, we need to fortify, prepare. Gather all those whom you are absolutely sure of their loyalty, and bring them to the dungeons. We shall fortify there. Bring the rest down to the area around the dungeon entrance.”

“Of course, my Lady.” Severan said. “Your wish is my command. If you will excuse me...” He bowed as Darla dismissed him distractedly, already planning on how to survive the debacle Luke was sure to bring down upon them.

**14 to 20 Days Until the Red Moon**

_Port City of Kaasricht  
Kingdom of Arenso_

The man looked over the letter in his hands a third time, then folded it up carefully, making sure to have it just perfect. Turning away from the fireplace, he threw the letter into the roaring flame, which was large and well fed despite the sweltering heat. He looked at his compatriots, and nodded. The three of them had been in this business for years. Handling the more...messy aspects of their employer's interests, here on the mainland. Usually just smuggling, but sometimes they did things which needed a more...personal touch.

“Who's the target, Collins? Who do we kill for the Council?” one of his partners asked.

“Rupert Giles.” Collins replied. “And no, we don't get to do it slowly, Weatherby.” He added to the man who spoke. “We just go in there, kill him, burn down his tower, and then we go after Wyndam-Pryce. Quick, clean, efficient. Then we're headed back to the Isles. Travers said he's going to need us there for whatever he's got planned next.”

“Can't we just burn down Giles' tower while he's in it? Save ourselves the effort of sneaking in?” The last man, asked.

“As long as he's alive, no, we can't. He's got wards against fires going off in the place while he's alive, and none of us are sorcerers.” Collins replied.

“Can we take anything with us from the tower?” Weatherby asked hopefully.

“No.” Collins shook his head. “Travers wants the whole place torched, no stone left unburnt. No souvenirs, no spoils, nothing. Erase it all, and salt the earth afterwards.”

“Then let's get moving. And put the damn fire out, Collins. I'm sweating like a pig in here!” Smith said in annoyance.

“You always sweat like a pig, Smith.” Weatherby replied. “And you need to learn to relish it.”

“No, I need to get the job done and get paid. The sooner I get paid, the sooner I have the money to retire somewhere where the wine is cheap and the women easy.” Smith briefly had a faraway look in his eyes and an evil smile on his face.

“Shut up, both of you.” Collins replied, rolling his eyes as the trio of smugglers/mercenaries/assassins headed for the door.

_Sunnydale Town  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

“And here,” duck, “I was,” kick, “Worrying that I'd have nothing to do after the vamps left!” Faith swung her sword like an axe, embedding the blade into the spine of the two-headed dog, severing it. Black ichor spurted from the wound and Faith pulled her weapon out of the Charnel Hound. The dark-haired Slayer didn't bother to wipe the weapon clean, looking for more of the creature's companions.

A skilled scholar of demon-kind Faith was not, but Charnel Hounds were the vultures in her line of work. Wherever vampires, demons or dark magic caused the death of large numbers of people, Charnel Hounds were attracted. Usually in packs of a dozen or so.

“How many is that now?” a familiar male voice said from a nearby roof. Angel dropped down from a roof, bloodstained battleaxe in hand. “I've killed three myself, but saw enough tracks for two packs, at least. And they usually don't arrive to scenes of death like this so quickly.”

“Or come in more than one pack. They’re pretty territorial, aren’t they?” Faith asked. “And I've gotten three more myself. So, if we're lucky, only eighteen more, minus however many Buffy's killed?”

“You don't think Amy will kill any?” Angel asked.

“Her? Fuck, no. She might try to bind a few to her will, though.” the Daughter of Sineya shrugged.

Angel inclined his head a moment later. Not an impossible possibility, the witch might try to do just that. “If I had to guess, I'd say they were attracted as much by the Hellmouth as all the vampire-induced death. Or the Hellmouth amplified the attraction, or something. And this is probably just the beginning. I've got a soul – all the Hellmouth is doing is giving me the mother of all headaches. But for demons? It's like catnip. We're gonna have more to kill before the rest of the Slayers arrive.”  
Just then, Buffy arrived on the scene with three Charnel Hounds chasing her, and both heroes quickly swung into action and helped her kill the demonic beasts; before all three of them had to run for it, as roughly a dozen Charnel Hounds came at them them in a berserk fury from another side.

_Temple of Sineya  
Agaden Forest_

Lady Cordelia Chase was, not to put too fine a point on it, completely and thoroughly bored.

It had been over a week now since her entire life had come crashing down around her. A week since her home had been invaded, her servants butchered, her father murdered, her mother utterly traumatized and she'd had to run for sanctuary with the pitifully few survivors of Sunnydale Town. And the worst part was that she owed her life to the only remnant of her former life; the ex-House Chase guard named Xander Harris.

_What am I doing here?_  Cordelia asked herself, and not for the first time.  _Sure, it's the safest place imaginable right now, and the best place for someone to help Mother recover her senses. But what if the witches around here can't do that? How am I going to restore the Lordship all by myself? I can't appear before the Baron as a penniless beggar, with nothing but a dead father and an addle-witted mother to her name! A woman my age all alone, without even a husband at her side, would only be laughed at...and I know it! It's almost bad enough that maybe...well, maybe I should consider asking Xander to consider resuming his allegiance to my House..._

Instantly, Cordelia literally shuddered at that thought. She had known Harris for a long time – daughter of nobility or not, the town was small enough that she knew most others around her age – and gotten a new look at him after everything that had happened. But actually asking him to do something for her...

Ever since her dearly departed father's minions had brought him into the castle a few years ago, Cordelia had sensed that there was something...different about that particular guard. She had known that Harris had disliked her, even though he had made sure to hide that fact from everyone else. But despite that, the man had actually risked his life for her against his former friend! Any other guard would most likely have abandoned her to be raped and murdered without a second thought, Cordelia did not doubt that.

Still, they had gotten away alive with Amy's help, before encountering the Slayers and their handsome friend. And then, that damned trek through the forest! Every moment, that legion of useless commoners had whined and bleated and generally driven her to the point of tearing her hair out. Cordelia knew that if she hadn't been able to distract herself by helping support Xander, and look after her mother...

“Lady Chase?” a somewhat familiar voice asked at the doors to her private room, as Cordelia turned her head in that direction immediately. 

“Yes?” the young noblewoman replied imperiously, recognizing the redhead whom Xander had greeted so affectionately when they had first arrived at the Temple; even if she didn't recognize the witch's blonde-haired companion. “Who are you, anyway?” she asked.

“I'm Tara, and this is Willow,” the witch introduced herself and her companion. “We thought you'd like to know the latest, a-about your lady mother?”

“What have you learned?” Cordelia asked. Well, demanded was more like it, but these things had to be taken in context, after all.

“Lady Chase is in pretty bad shape,” Willow replied, staring at the woman's daughter with a peculiar expression in her eyes. “The healers are doing all they can for her, but they're not optimistic about the chances for a recovery. She's been through something so horrible, it appears that retreating away from the world inside her mind, was the only way she could cope...”

_Why is she looking at me like that?_  Cordelia asked herself for a moment, before dismissing the question as irrelevant. “So, when can I see her?”

“Right now, i-if you like?” Tara stammered, before she and Willow escorted the brunette to that part of the Temple. Once they were alone, the older witch said to Willow, “Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, I'm fine,” Willow said, shaking her head. “It's just that it's a little odd, you know? Cordelia doesn't remember me at all, back from when we were children.”

“You knew her?” Tara asked in surprise as they walked along, briefly staring back at where they'd left her ladyship.

“Not well,” Willow shook her head. “We met, what, half a dozen times? My parents knew hers, they attended to Lord and Lady Chase for a time; well, before they fell out of favor and I was sent here for my training. I don't know, I just thought...maybe there would be some spark of recognition? But she didn't have a clue we'd ever met.”

“Well, maybe that's not so surprising. I mean, it has been a long time, hasn't it?” Tara said hesitantly. “Fifteen years or so?”

“Yeah,” Willow sighed, before dismissing the subject from her mind. “Come on, I want to introduce you to Xander!”

“Your friend from Sunnydale Town? Well, all right,” Tara said hesitantly, she wasn't very confident around men. Her experience with the males of her family on the other side of the continent was best left unmentioned, before she had eventually run away and been taken in the Coven.

Unfortunately, Xander wasn't in the mood for visitors; after all his injuries had been healed by Janna Kalderash and her white magicks, there was room for only one thought in his mind right now.

Resuming his interrupted war against the undead, who had invaded his home and killed his best friend...


	19. Regrouping

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

Thanks to Starway Man, my Beta.

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 19: Regrouping

**10 to 16 Days Until the Red Moon**

_Sunnydale Town,  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

Faith looked out the window of the chapel, and then let out a soft 'yes!' of success. “Buffy, you owe me a crown. You said they wouldn't get here until tomorrow, so pay up!”

Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes as she pulled a golden coin out of her pack, and threw it towards Faith with enough force for the money to sail all the way past the other Slayer. Unfazed, Faith walked over to her prize money. “Is Amy still in the same place? That abandoned mansion, or whatever?” She asked as she bent down and picked up the coin.

“She was when I checked last night.” Angel said. “After we killed those Fyarl demons. Uh, you may want to go out and report to the High Priestess.” He added. “Tell her about the Hellmouth, and everything else.”

_Sunnydale Town,  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

A previously snow-white crystal in Janna Kalderash's hand abruptly went solid black. Turning to Nikki Wood, who was walking next to her, Janna spoke softly. “Amy is definitely here in Sunnydale Town, still. I'd best go deal with her.” She turned around and faced the mass of Slayers and witches – mostly Slayers – that was following behind them. “Willow! Tara! With me!” Without waiting to see if they complied, Janna ducked down a side street, following the pull of the crystal towards the dark witch she sought. The two subordinates hurried to follow after and keep up with her.

Nikki didn't spare any more thought for the three magic-users, when she looked ahead to see the Sunnydale Chapel just ahead. Two figures came out of it, and within moments, she realized they were Buffy and Faith. So the black woman turned back to the Slayers behind her. “Attention,everyone! We'll make camp here for the night. Set up the wards, and get both guard and patrol schedules in place. You know what to do, so get to it!” She then turned back to the approaching blonde and brunette Slayers, closing the distance between herself and them quickly.

“Report.” Nikki demanded of them tersely.

“The vampires have moved on, up north.” Faith said, indicating the direction with her right hand. “They've gone to some castle or other, to raise the Master.”

“Yes, so I've been led to understand.” Nikki replied with a grimace. “What else?”

“Angel tried to infiltrate Darla's forces. He was found out almost immediately, but he did manage to learn one thing before he had to run from the enemy. And that is...they're going to finish what the Master started, or so he heard.” Buffy supplied. “Which is to say, they're going to try to bring back the Old Ones.”

“That's impossible! The Old Ones are gone from this reality, and they can never come back. This reality holds no purchase for them any longer.” Nikki replied flatly.

“Really? Well, tell that to the Order of Aurelius. Those vampires seem to think that their boss can do it!” Faith shrugged as she spoke. “Either way, shouldn't we make sure that the undead don't bring their Master out of wherever the hell he's been stuck for the last forever, and he doesn't even get the chance to try to accomplish that?”

Nikki ignored Faith's words. “So what have you two been doing since the vampires left? Surely you've not been waiting around doing nothing, until we got here?”

Faith scoffed. “Hardly. We've spent almost every minute killing demons. They're coming here from all over the place! Charnel Hounds, Fyarls, Glurgs, Hyraks, Drokken beasts,” Faith listed them off, and then looked to Buffy. “Hey, what did Angel call those three-eyed demons with the freaky long tongues?”

“Skilosh demons.” Buffy supplied. “Uh, Amy Madison mentioned...that the entire lordship is on a Hellmouth. Some kind of nexus of dark energy, where the barriers between worlds are weaker than normal. Angel says that that's what is attracting all the demons of so many types and numbers in such frequency, especially in unusual configurations. Charnel Hounds usually don't travel in groups of more than one pack, for example.”

Nikki frowned. “I see. And exactly how did the Madison girl know about this...Hellmouth?”

“How should we know?” Faith threw her hands up in disgust. “It's not like we're her best friends all of a sudden! Maybe because she's such an evil bitch that she can just feel all the evil this Hellmouth puts out? It doesn't matter, anyway. It's here, and it's drawing all sorts of demons from Sineya-knows-where, like moths to a flame!”

Buffy rolled her eyes for the second time in the last hour and resisted the urge to face-palm. “Amy boasted that it was one of the things that she found out, while she was searching the Forbidden Archives. It's why she accepted the job offer from Lord Chase and came here, rather than somewhere that paid better. She wants to use the Hellmouth's power for her own gain...”

“We can't let that happen. Once Janna is done binding her powers, we'll have to make sure she cannot ever be a threat of that magnitude again.” Nikki's tone reflected the murderous mood that had been dominating her thoughts ever since Xander had told her about Spike, and that he was involved in the attempt to unleash the Master.  _I will kill that monster. Even if it kills me._

_Sunnydale Town,  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

“Well, hello there Janna, Tara.” Amy said from the second floor window of Kendall Manor, the fancy house that she had taken over as her own after moving out of the chapel. She smiled broadly when she saw Willow. “And Willow Rosenberg. Little Miss Perfect herself. How are you? Is butter still not melting in your mouth?”

“Shut up, Amy, and get down here.” Janna said roughly. “This isn't the time for your petty issues with-”

“I turned you in for what you were doing, because it was the right thing to do, Amy!” Willow shouted at her former friend, interrupting Janna. “The Forbidden Archives-”

Amy cut Willow off with a wave of her hand, fusing the red-head's mouth shut. “Are forbidden for a reason? Is that what you were going to say, Willow?”Amy laughed. “Of  _course_  they're forbidden for a reason. Pretty much everything has a reason. But you want to know the reason why those texts are forbidden to be read? The  _real_  reason why they're forbidden? Because the coven is full of cowards, and led by the Queen of Cowards herself. Cowards, for being afraid of the power in the archives. Real power.” Curling her hand into a claw-like resemblance, she gestured, combining the motion with a magical utterance.

Nine blood-crimson fireballs appeared in front of Amy and then, thrusting her arm down at the other witches, she directed them to fly at the trio. Below, Tara and Willow frantically raised up hastily made, poorly constructed shields against the attacks, but Janna remained unfazed. With a flick of her wrist, she turned all nine fireballs into blocks of solid ice, which landed on the ground with heavy thuds. Willow's mouth was unsealed with the same gesture.

“An impressive trick, creating and controlling all those fireballs at once. But if that is the best that you can do, I don't think there's much for us to actually be afraid of in the Forbidden Archives. So will you stop your posturing and get down here?” Janna insisted again.

“Why? So you can bind my powers? Sorry, but that's never going to happen.”

Janna laughed, genuine amusement in the noise. “Believe it or not, I'm not interested in binding your powers. In fact, when all this is over, I plan on letting you go on your merry way.” The leader of the Agaden Temple Coven ignored the looks of shock and horror on the faces of Willow and Tara.

Amy looked briefly intrigued at Janna's words. “And why would you do that? Because you think I can be saved from my evil ways, and thus redeemed?' She scoffed at the very idea.

“Redemption is reserved for those who actually want it, a group that does not include you. Quite frankly, you are a greedy, egocentric, cruel, petty, angry and hateful little fool. There's no chance of saving your soul. But I will allow you to retain your freedom and powers when this is all done, because I know about two of the things you found when you raided the Forbidden Archives...and the one thing you managed to get out of the Archives and out of the temple, without any of us realizing it at the time.”

Amy smirked. “I was wondering if you'd figured it out by now, given the current circumstances. Yes, I found the Prophecies of the Dark Oracle while researching the Hellmouth, and that led me to finding this.” She pulled a rolled up scroll from her belt pouch. “The only known copy of the ritual that sealed the Master away, all those centuries ago. And the only way you're going to be able to seal him away again, or strengthen the seals on his prison.” Amy made as if to toss it down to Janna, but then seemed to think better of it. “You know, even if I gave this to you, with what the vampires have planned – it's not going to do you any good-”

“I know.” Janna interrupted. “Which is why I also brought this with me.” She held up a folded piece of parchment. “A copy of a single page from the Devandiré Sibylline Codex. And it's yours when this is all done, if you do the part of the sealing ritual that requires dark magic.”

“WHAT?!” Willow burst out, and then went red with embarrassment as she realized she had interrupted Janna a second time.

The head of the coven turned back to Willow. “The ritual to seal the Master requires a great deal of dark magic, Willow. From what little I've learned from the other texts, there must be a circled square formation with four magic-users, and one of them must be able and willing to use very dark magic. That'll be Amy. Better to let her corrupt herself even further than expose either of you, or any of the others of the coven, to that kind of vile blackness. And granted, it galls me to reward her after all that she's done, all that she's become – but we need to prevent the Master from being released, or else all will be lost...”

“Oh, by the dark pestilent gods, spare me your sanctimonious platitudes!” Amy said from the front door of the manor, having arrived downstairs by this point. She held up the ritual scroll in one hand. “Very well. I'll uphold my end of the bargain; this I swear, by any of the dark gods listening to us right now. But this,” she shook the scroll slightly, “Stays with me until we need to use it. And if I see the High Priestess – or any Slayer, for that matter – come anywhere near this place, then I burn it. Are we clear?”

“As crystal.” Janna said with mock sweetness.

“Good. Then go away, until the time comes for us to conclude our business.” Amy turned on her heel and slammed the door shut behind her, as she went back inside.

“We can't trust her not to betray us!” Willow insisted.

“I agree.” Tara said unusually firmly. “But you heard what Madam Kalderash said.” Her slight stammer returned. “I don't think we really have the luxury of choice, at this point.”

“Indeed. And I don't like it any more than either of you do.” Janna said, putting the parchment back into her belt pouch. “But what I'm liking even less is the idea of telling Nikki about all this, and her reaction after I tell her about the...bargain in question.”

_Sunnydale Town,  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

The ensuing shouting match between Janna and Nikki drove most of the Slayers and witches to set up camp for the night – away from the two arguing leaders – in small camps of five to ten people. Most of the women hadn't been out in the field for months, if at all, and Nikki had decided that since the place was attracting demons, they may as well take a few days – given that they had time until the Red Moon came, even by the most pessimistic estimations – to get rid of the majority of them, and get everyone used to live-fire combat.

Especially since the steady trickle of demons invading the town was growing every night.

Faith and Buffy had returned to the Chapel. Angel, even as it grew darker into evening, hadn't left the building, preferring to stay out of the reach of the stakes of jumpy Slayers. They may have known who he was by sight; but in the dark and surrounded by the enemy, it was better not to tempt fate if he didn't have to.

Eventually, the door to the Chapel opened and a somewhat familiar face stepped in. That guard from over a week ago, Xander or whatever his name was, strode past Faith, looking much the better for his absence from Sunnydale. Angel figured one of the witches of the Agaden Coven had healed him of his admittedly serious injuries.

“So, you decided to come back for revenge?” Angel asked, stepping out of the shadows towards the mortal.

Xander seemingly wasn't affected by the vampire's words or the stealth act. He simply said, “They killed my best friend, turned him into a vampire, killed the man I swore my service to, and killed most of the people in my hometown. Not to mention I could have been a permanent cripple if the coven hadn't healed me, after what the undead did to me personally. It's not as if I don't have an  _excellent_  case for revenge. Gods, even the Triumvirate Tribunal couldn't find fault with my case for it.”

“Given that they consider revenge a cardinal sin and that finding fault with revenge is effectively their job, I'm pretty sure the Triumvirate Tribunal could and would disagree with you.” Angel picked up his sword and hefted it around for a moment, before throwing it straight upward, letting it bury itself into a ceiling beam. “But that wasn't what I was talking about. Going into a fight against vampires with revenge on your mind is a recipe for suicide. Revenge blinds you, in my experience. It also makes you stupid, on occasion. It consumes you and makes you careless. I'm not going to stand here and tell you that it's too dangerous for a normal human like you to fight them. You're healed up now, and you know the risks better than most. It's your choice, if you want to fight this battle. All I'm saying is, make sure you fight for the right reason, before the fight even starts. Find another reason to fight than mere revenge. Otherwise, you're just going to get yourself killed.”

“I want revenge, yes.” Xander said softly. “But that's not the only reason I have for coming back here.”

Angel shrugged and asked, “What else are you fighting for?”

“There's a demon wearing my best friend's face, using his body to do gods know what, kill whoever and do whatever it wants. Jesse's soul, his true self, is gone. I want to give him the peace of knowing that the demon inhabiting his body isn't killing people anymore.”

“But you also want revenge.” Angel didn't need to make it a question.

“Of course. Who in my situation wouldn't?”

“Very few people.” Angel agreed. “Good enough, I suppose. Just don't focus on the revenge aspect. Focus on bringing peace to your friend's soul, and you may live through this.”

Xander said slowly, “And there is another reason, I suppose...”

“What reason is that?”

“Lord Chase's daughter, the Lady Cordelia, has also returned here, with the idea of somehow reclaiming the Lordship.” Harris smirked, as if finding that very funny “Something about not appearing before the Baron as a penniless beggar. I suspect she's also planning to seek out a worthy husband, given her father's death. You appear to have impressed her. And I can't  _wait_  to see the expression on her face, when Lady Chase learns her intended consort is the Slayers' pet vampire.” Xander looked out the window for a moment, before turning back to Angel. “We all need to find our amusements somewhere, don't we?”

“So you learned the truth about me.” Angel was unsurprised, and not particularly bothered, not even by the 'pet vampire' crack.

Harris shrugged. “Too many things didn't make sense, once I had the opportunity to think about them. I asked Willow on the way here. She told me all about you, about the vampire with the human soul.” He paused and added, “Your Slayer friends were right not to tell me, back then; I'd have tried to kill you at once, soul or no soul. So tell me. Why side with the Daughters of Sineya? What are you fighting for?”

“Redemption.” Angel said simply. “I've done a lot of terrible-”

“Bullshit.” Xander cut him off immediately. “ ** _You're_**  not guilty of what the demon did, before your soul was returned. I may not have paid that much attention in my lessons right here in this very chapel when I was a child, but one thing the priests make clear is that once a vampire turns you, the person to whom the body originally belonged isn't responsible for anything any longer. And from what Willow said, when your soul was returned to you, the vampire Angelus was no longer in charge. You were, again. The man you were, before you became one of the undead. True or false?”

“I suppose...that's true enough, in some grand theological, cosmological sense, but – I never stopped being a vampire, after the curse was inflicted upon me. I can remember, vividly – vampires never forget – everyone that died when I was evil. Everyone that was tortured. Raped. Murdered. I can remember every debauched sin Angelus ever committed. I remember it all as if I...I did such things personally. Maybe in the eyes of the gods, in the eyes of some grand sense of cosmic justice, I don't need redemption. But I  **feel**  like I do. If I didn't fight the good fight, do what I can to help make up in some small way for what happened after Darla turned me...” He shrugged. “I don't think I'd be able to live with myself.”

Xander shrugged as well. “So to speak, you mean.”

“Enough deep and meaningful talk.” Faith said from her spot near the doorway. “Or at least, do it somewhere where I can't hear it.” She gestured at Xander's sword. “Wanna talk shop?”

**5 to 10 Days Until the Red Moon**

_Sunnydale Town,  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

“Priestess Wood, Madam Kalderash. The intruders are here.” Vi said, pointing to the four travel-worn new arrivals.

“Intruders implies that you have some sort of claim on the land.” One of them, a tall, thinly-built man wearing a leather coat pointed out.

“I recognize that accent. You're a Watcher, are you not?” Nikki asked suspiciously.

“I was a Watcher, yes, but no longer.” The Britillian man replied. “My name is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, and I am here at the behest of Rupert Giles.”        

“How can I know that for certain?” Nikki pointed out. “It's an easy enough claim to make. And a lying Watcher is hardly anything new.”

“He's not lying.” Janna pointed out. “He has some knowledge of the magical arts, but he doesn't have enough power to fool my truth detection spell. Trust me, the man is not speaking falsely.”

“I don't remember asking  _you_ , Janna!” Nikki said angrily. She was still annoyed over the unholy bargain the head witch had made with Amy Madison; even if 'annoyed' was probably too mild a word to describe it properly.

“We can come back later, if you two want to...” Gunn said, gesturing to the two bickering women.

“No. Let's hear it. Who are you all?” the High Priestess demanded.

“Well, that's Wesley, who just introduced himself. I'm Charles Gunn and this is my wife, Fred.” Gunn indicated everyone in turn. “We're independent demon hunters. Never been Watchers, but we're friends of Giles as well.” Fred nodded. “And this here,” He pointed to the last member of their little group, “is Lilah, who is something of an evil bitch.”

“Oh, please.” Lilah said rolling her eyes. “The fact that I'm a bitch and that I'm evil are two entirely separate qualities.” She gave an elaborate, mocking bow. “Lilah Morgan, at your service.”

“Lilah Morgan?” Janna asked, raising an eyebrow. “Your reputation precedes you...though for some reason, I thought you were a blonde.”

“I have no clue how you got that idea.” Lilah said with a smirk.

“You know this woman?” Nikki asked.

“I know  ** _of_**  her. She's responsible for the theft of quite a number of rare magical artifacts and tomes across Arenso, Jarevan and Kourous. Possibly even from Gargan.”

“Now, now. I've stolen in Arenso, Jarevan and Kourous, true. But I've never been to Gargan in my life.” Lilah countered. “Nonetheless, I'm more than just a thief, you know. I'm here on behalf of my employers to help make sure the world doesn't end. I have useful information in regards to defeating the Master. And I can hold my own in a fight.”

“What information do you have?” Nikki asked dryly.

“Oh, if I were to tell you that, then Wesley here would finally have the reason he needs to kill me.” Lilah smirked. “Long story." She added. "I'll tell you when we get to the castle where the Master was sealed away, where his cult is gathering right now. You were planning to assault it, I gather?”

“And Rupert Giles has done a great deal of research both into the magicks the Order of Aurelius is likely to bring to bear in battle, and the ritual they'll be using to free the Master.” Wes produced several sheets of parchment that he'd written the information Giles had given him via the  _Yherrin_  Crystal, and handed them over to Janna. “And as Lilah said, we can more than hold our own in a fight. You have what, a hundred-odd Slayers and witches here with you? You're going to be outnumbered at least three to one, if not more. Can you really afford to turn down help?”

Nikki looked at them and shrugged. “Not really. Very well; you can all fight the vampires alongside our forces. Better one of you die than one of my sisters, after all.”

“I'm touched by your priorities.” Fred drawled.

**3 to 8 Days Until the Red Moon**

_The Tower of Rupert Giles  
Free City of Kayden, Kingdom of Arenso_

Muttering under his breath, Giles lifted several books off one of the many tables strewn around the second floor of his tower, looking for blank parchment. There was still too much variation, despite his best efforts in research, regarding the estimated time until the rising of the Red Moon. And so, Giles wanted to see if he could come up with a more accurate date from the available data.

Dipping his quill into the inkwell, Giles set to work on the calculations. After about an hour or so, Giles looked at his results; and then he grew pale. “That can't be right...” He checked the numbers, checked his math, and even redid a few sections, but the final number was the same. He checked again a third time. The same result.

Scrambling to his feet in a most undignified manner, Giles began to pull books off their shelves, checking each of them in turn.

Finally, he looked up at the location of the sun in the sky through a window. “Oh dear gods.” He had to get to the  _Yherrin_  Crystal and warn Wesley. **Now.**

It might already be too late.

**Next Time, on Red Moon Rises:**   _Giles may have found out key information for Wesley, but is that all he has to worry about? And as the Slayers and the vampires marshal their forces for one last battle in the shadow of Castle Maestro, can the rising of the Master be prevented?_


	20. The Battle of the Red Moon, Part I

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own Buffy, Angel or any associated media, which is instead owned by Joss Whedon et al. I do own any and all original characters, settings, concepts and other original content, as well as my original variations on canon material that exist for this story (such as the 'Daughters of Sineya' as written, et cetera). No copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made. Written by a fan for other fans for amusement purposes.

**A/N:**  If anyone who makes covers/fanart for fanfics, is reading this fic, and would be willing to take a request regarding this fic, please contact me. Thank you.

Thanks to Starway Man, my Beta

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 20: The Battle of the Red Moon, Part I

**The Day of the Red Moon**

_Castle Maestro,  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

“So, here they are. The Slayers have finally come, at the last moment, on the eve of the Red Moon.” Luke said, looking carefully out the window, thankful for the momentary cloud cover that was blocking the deadly rays of the sun. “When we move against them, I will feed on their blood to fuel the Master's return, and deliver unto him a Kingdom defenseless against His wrath!”

Darla rolled her eyes. With the sun out, they met not in the castle courtyard, but near the entrance to the dungeons where she had moved the main body of her remaining followers. “The only thing you will be presenting the Master with is a vastly weakened force, an army of ashes. There is no reason for us to go out and fight them, you fool, with our ultimate triumph so near! This night, the Master rises... and under his leadership, there can  ** _be_**  no defeat!”

“When I have ensured the Master's return to this world, I will speak to him of your cowardice. He will reward my faith in him, and in the prophecies of Aurelius, by allowing me to end your existence. Your final death will be long in coming, Darla, this I promise you.”

“And when the Master rises, despite your insane foolishness, I will in due course feed your ashes to a pig and watch it choke on your remains.” Darla countered, unable to believe this... this blockhead's short-sightedness.

“Keep your five score less one.” Luke drawled. “Hide in this castle's dungeons, too, if you must. I have over four-hundred and fifty. I have The Three. I even have your greatest warrior, William the Bloody. I will have victory, and you will have nothing.”

“We shall see, Luke.” Darla shot back, her tone as cold as ice. She returned to the castle dungeons, fuming, but also pleased that Luke was so committed to a strategy that would result in his becoming ashes.  _And if that idiot truly thinks that Spike is on his side..._  Darla resisted the urge to laugh aloud where Luke could hear her. She knew William's only true loyalty was to Drusilla, and since the mad seer was still among Darla's faithful...

Having a set of spying eyes and ears in the midst of Luke's forces could only be useful.

_Outside Castle Maestro  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

“Prepare the defensive wall!” Nikki barked orders to her Slayers. “We must be ready for any move the vampires will make against us after sunset. We attack the castle at dawn!” The High Priestess of the Agaden Temple watched as the Slayers acted as directed, working in teams to build a makeshift waist-high wall of trees from the nearby forest, shorn of their branches. As of yet, they'd disturbed no birds, the winged animals having either been killed by the vampires as food, or fled from their unnatural neighbors.

The industriousness and strength of the Daughters of Sineya meant that the work was going quickly, and would be done well before sundown. With two days – at least – before the rising of the Red Moon. More than enough time for victory, even if the vampires weren't defeated tomorrow with the rising sun. The Master would not be raised. And Spike would be brought to an end.

Nikki turned to Janna, scowling. “Can you perform the ritual from here? Strengthen the seals on the Master's prison, and prevent his release from even being remotely possible?”

Janna gave the High Priestess' question serious consideration for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I don't believe so. We dare not risk tampering with the spell from so far away, if no one else is tampering with it. For the ritual to work as to strengthen the Master's bindings, one of two things would have to happen. Either we'd have to be in the castle itself, right there in the room where the seals are located; or we could be out here, but the Red Moon would have to be in the sky and the vampires would have to be tampering with the seals with their own ritual. Since you plan on attacking at sunrise, we can do what needs to be done afterwards.”

“I'm afraid that your plan and timetable will have to be both radically adjusted and severely contracted.” Wesley said from behind the two women, speaking as he approached. “The Red Moon will be rising  tonight.” His tone lacked his customary snark and sarcasm, but was instead deadly grave.

“What? The message Rupert Giles sent told us the range of dates we could expect the Red Moon to fall on. The closest is still three nights away.” Nikki said suspiciously.

“The Red Moon is coming tonight.” Wesley repeated. “And with regards to why Giles gave you those dates, it was because those were the best dates he could come up with from the available source material. But as it turns out, they left out a rather critical detail.” He reached into his pocket and produced a small crystal sphere.

“A  _Yherrin_  Crystal?” Nikki murmured. “Well, well. You and Rupert Giles are indeed full of surprises.” She extended her arm and Wesley let it fall into her hand. “How do I-?”

“Tap it twice with your left ring finger.” Wesley replied. “He's waiting on the other end.”

Nikki tapped the crystal as directed and watched as an image – a projected illusion, about six inches high – of Rupert Giles rose up out of the crystal, appearing to all the world as if she had a small man standing in her hand.

“High Priestess Wood, I presume?” The mini-Giles asked, adjusting his spectacles.

“Yes.” Nikki replied, then went straight to the point. “Why are you so sure that the Red Moon is coming tonight?”

“Yes, well, the sources I referenced gave a number of dates, but I wanted to determine if I couldn't use the same information the authors did to calculate a date myself, to get a better idea of when the Red Moon was coming. One should never trust the work of others too blindly, after all. But there's something that the sources I referenced didn't figure into their actual calculations, even though they referenced the phenomenon. The Red Moon has what is called a 'decaying cycle'. While it only arrives every six hundred and seventy three years, it can be observed in other ways in its trajectory en route to its arrival in our skies. While we lack much in the way of data points, given the timescale, it appears that the Red Moon shortens the time between arrivals in the night sky every time it arrives. Which accounts for the missing two days off my previous estimate.”

“And you're sure of your math?” Janna asked, finally speaking up.

“I've checked it repeatedly. I'm as certain of it as I can be, given the circumstances. Of course, sunset will bear me out one way or the other.”

“True.” Nikki agreed. She briefly cursed the fact that he could not have learned this sooner, or that the Daughters had not  ** _wasted_**  all that time in Sunnydale Town. “Thank you for your efforts, Rupert Giles.”

“You are quite welcome.” Giles's image flickered a moment. “I could linger, but it appears something has come up. If you'll excuse me.” His image vanished completely and the crystal went dark.

“Are you going to give the attack order, then?” Wesley asked the High Priestess, as Janna departed to spread the news among her followers; even Amy Madison, who was hanging around somewhere, shunned by everyone else.

“No. Not until sundown. Especially since that is when the vampires will come out to meet us. If we cannot attack tomorrow with the sun as our ally, then fighting them in an open battle under the light of the moon – red or not – is our best bet. If Luke and/or Darla don't come out to fight alongside their soldiers, then we'll have to send in a team to kill one or the both of them that stays in there.”

“But with the sun still out-” Wesley started.

“My Slayers have been on the march all day, Britillian, not to mention building that wall. I will not send them into an attack against the enemy while they're tired, without at least some chance to rest.”

“But how can you be sure that the vampires will come out and attack?” The former Watcher inquired. “It would be monumentally stupid for them to do so, tactically speaking. Surely it would occur to them that all they need do is just wait us out, until the Master rises?”

Nikki smiled, and it was _not_ a nice smile. “They're vampires, remember? Vampires that have been living on animal blood for at least the last ten days, mostly, if not more and entirely. And they're fanatical cultists, who believe they have inevitable prophecy on their side. And they outnumber us at least three to one, if not more. You tell me what is the most likely course of action those damned demons will undertake.”

Wesley had to give her that. “A fair point.” He conceded. “But that hardly means Luke and or Darla are sure to come out with their forces. Which means they still need to be dealt with.”

“Also true.” Nikki agreed. “Which is where you and your friends come in. On a pitched battlefield, you and yours are a great deal less useful than any of the Daughters; or even our undead ally. You and those that came with you, plus that House Chase guardsman – Harris, or whatever his name is – will go in and deal with the leader or leader that stays inside the castle. The five of you should be enough, given that most of the vampires will be outside fighting the rest of us.”

“Just the five of us?” Wesley shook his head skeptically. “Unsupported?”

“You lack trust in your abilities and those of your traveling companions?” The question came out deadpan.

“Not in the least.” Wesley countered. “I have a completely accurate measure of our abilities. And I doubt that the five of us alone would be enough to handle even one six-hundred plus year old vampire and whatever personal guard they have. I have absolutely no desire to commit suicide-by-vampire, and neither does everyone else.”

Nikki was silent for several minutes, then finally, she spoke. “Very well. I'll send Buffy, Faith and Angel in with you. There are no others that can be spared.”

Wesley didn't like it, but he had to agree with the High Priestess's logic. The numbers truly were  **not**  on their side, after all, and a team of eight was better than just five.  “Agreed.”

**The Night of the Red Moon**

_In the Shadow of Castle Maestro  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

The idea of large, pitched battles was not an alien concept to the Daughters of Sineya. Indeed, during the Dark Times, the High Priestess had on occasion led massive armies of Slayers and normal human soldiers into melee battles against demons and vampires, and massive set-piece fighting was the norm, rather than the exception.

But it had been centuries now since those chaotic, bloody times. Still, it was something that cropped up every now and then – a demonic or vampiric horde gathered in large enough numbers that many Slayers had to be mustered together to fight them. To Nikki's recollection, the last time it had happened before tonight was two-hundred twenty-seven years ago, in the now-defunct Kingdom of Jalcwyn. One-hundred and seventy-three Slayers from two Temples had joined with five-hundred and sixteen soldiers of the Jalcwyn army to stand against the forward companies of the Archduke Sebassis. If those early troops hadn't been thrown back through their portal, doubtless that demonic warlord could and would have marched legion after legion into the mortal world and enslaved it.

Of course, what she had was closer to one-hundred Slayers and no soldiers, against what could be up to six hundred vampires.

Not an optimal situation.

Nikki looked out into the night, seeing the massing vampires, formed up in blocks of soldiers, ready to plow across the open field between the two sides at a moment's notice.

_At least there won't be any problem with seeing the enemy._  Nikki thought with a hint of irony as she looked up at the full moon above, casting a red tinge across the earth below it.  _And not that I ever truly doubted it, but Rupert Giles was right. The Red Moon is upon us._

She turned back to stare at her Slayers, massed as they were in two ranks, crossbows at the ready. Behind them stood the seven witches she had at her disposal; Janna, Willow and Tara beginning the counter-ritual to prevent the release of the Master, joined by that bitch Amy.  _I still don't trust her not to betray us somehow, damn it..._

“Daughters of Sineya! Witches of the Agaden Coven! Tonight is the night when we must stand firm! Across this field of battle lies our enemy, the very beings we are sworn to protect mankind from. Across this field lies hundreds of vampires, dedicated to a cause that seeks to end all human life on this world! They outnumber us, but I know that each and every one of you is worth ten vampires! Twenty vampires! We are blessed by Sineya! We will stand firm against this menace, as we have since the creation of our Order! We will not run! We will not surrender! We will fight, and we will win!”

“First Rank! Kneel!” The first rank of Slayers knelt, such that both ranks could fire their crossbows without risking hitting any of their own.

On the other end of the field, Luke began to exhort his followers.

“Millennia ago, this world belonged to the Old Ones! The great demons of old! We have their blood in us! We are their loyal servants! We serve the Order of Aurelius, and we serve the Master! We will bring hell to this earth! We will offer the Master a hundred dead Slayers as a gift when he rises! And then, and  ** _then_** , we shall conquer! We shall burn this mortal world to the ground, feasting and gorging on the blood of human cattle, and we shall bring the Old Ones back! When they come – and they  ** _will_**  come – we will be rewarded! Are you ready to kill, followers of Aurelius?” Luke threw his arms out to the sides in dramatic fashion, like a preacher waiting for an amen. His question was answered with a screamed 'Yes!' that reached all the way to the Slayer line. 

“Are you ready to die for the cause?” Luke asked. Once again, the fanatical cultists provided exactly the answer he wanted. 

“Then tonight we kill, and tonight we die! For the Master!” Luke shouted loud enough that he could be heard even down in the castle dungeons.

“FOR THE MASTER!” The vampires screamed, even louder.

One of the few vampires who didn't take part in the chanted responses was standing just a bit off to the side from the main body of Luke's forces: William the Bloody himself, Spike. Checking his carefully maintained black fingernails in boredom, he waited for the order to charge to finally come.

_Bloody hell. Do these idiots_  really  _want to end the world by bringing back the soddin' Old Ones?_  In his mind, this world had a lot of things going for it. First and foremost, all the bloodbags walking around it. These last few weeks living on mostly animal blood had been hell in a handbasket.

The chance to taste Slayer blood again was enough to draw him out to fight, and to hell with all this talk of Aurelius or bringing back the Old Ones. Well, that and Drusilla had told him what to do...

“Warriors of the Order of Aurelius! Warriors of the Master! Charge!” Luke turned from facing the vampires and towards the enemy Slayers, as a great war cry rose up from the vampires. In a singe rolling mass, the vampires charged their enemies.

“Hold your fire!” Nikki ordered from her position on the left of the Slayer line. “Wait until you are certain your shot will count! We only have this one volley!”

The vampires drew closer...seven fireballs flew up from the witches, arcing up and then crashing into the back ranks of the vampires, incinerating some, wounding others, and serving as to break up the formation, as artillery the world over did again and again throughout history. A second barrage was fired, disrupting the undead's lines even further – before the twang of the crossbows sent nearly one hundred wooden shafts flying straight into the vampire ranks.

One hundred bolts didn't mean one hundred dead vampires, as the wooden weapons bounced off the armor of some, or hit others in places not the heart, or missed them altogether. But close to fifty vampires were taken out, one way or another, as the charging undead mass grew even closer.

“Draw your swords! Break formation, form groups, and attack!” Nikki ordered, pulling the twin swords from their sheaths on her back as she charged right into the vampire ranks, a windmill of death, beheading a vampire with each of her opening strokes.

The Slayers broke into groups, clumps of two or three, sometimes four, each one wielding a sword and a stake, breaking through the vampiric ranks like rocks into water, surrounded and subsumed by wave after wave of the undead.

Here, two Slayers swung their swords, back to back, stabbing out with stakes, keeping the vampires at bay.

There, one vampire ducked under the wild, inexperienced swings of a Slayer, grabbing at the girl's arm, snapping it back with a sickening crack. Eagerly, he went for her neck – only to fall to dust as a stake from another Slayer got him in the heart.

Elsewhere, three heavily armored vampires used spears as twice as long as they were tall to skewer two Slayers, tossing their bodies into the air, letting them land among vampires, who fell upon them with a hungry abandon.

For his part, Luke ignored a painful slash into his arm as he grabbed a Slayer that had been separated from the others and dug his fangs into her neck, feeling the blood flow into him, as the power began to flow from him to the Master. “More blood!” He called out. “I must have more!” He ducked under a punch from another Slayer.

A dark-skinned young woman suddenly rose up into a flying leap, driving her feet into Luke's chest, knocking him to the ground. She rolled off of him in a smooth motion and stabbed her stake down into where the vampire's heart should have been; but Luke had already rolled away, taking a scrape along his side as he grabbed the woman's arm and flung her into three vampire minions, who fell to the ground as Luke rose to his feet.

Kendra took advantage of the opportunity and took out a second stake from her belt, driving both into vampiric hearts, elbowing the third right in the face as it tried to go for her neck before staking it in the back. Somersaulting up to her feet, she ran at Luke.

“A real challenge!” Luke said with glorious fury. “Come at me then, Slayer! I will end you!” He beckoned to the woman who charged him again, ducking under his swings, sliding right under him, jumping back up behind him – a kick got her right under the chin, sending her sprawling some five feet away.

Luke savored the moment as he approached her.

On the other end of the battlefield, Spike saw a the windmill of blades up ahead, taking out vampire after vampire. “Now this looks like fun!” Not bothering to draw the sword he'd brought along, Spike ran at the deadly Slayer. He drew up a moment short as he recognized the woman, plus some twenty years. 

“You!” Spike roared with a hearty laugh. “I never thought I'd see you again. Thought I killed you, actually!”

“You tried, William the Bloody.” Nikki Wood spat, casually beheading a maimed vampire on the ground beside her. “But Sineya protected me. Kept me alive. For this night. For this purpose. I will end you, at long last.”

Spike donned his true face. “We'll see about that, luv. And it's Spike.” 

Not bothering to reply, Nikki swung her swords at him, coming at his neck from either end. Spike just lifted his arms and let the blades bounce off his enchanted coat. “Didn't forget about this nifty little thing, did you?” He asked with a smirk. He kicked out at her, knocking a leg out from under her, but Nikki stabilized, stabbing a sword into the earth and using it as leverage to spin into the air, legs crashing into his arm. Spike flew to the ground, landing on his side.

The vampire laughed as he pulled himself to his feet. “A lot more interesting fighting you, now. I remember how you cried out in pain as I drank from you. I wonder if you'll taste just as sweet now as you did last time?”

“You won't get a chance to find out!” Nikki pulled her sword out of the ground and came at him with both again.

“Now that just ain't fair.” Spike mocked as he ducked and dodged swing after swing. “Here you are, swinging swords, and all I've got is my fists. Give a chap a chance, hm?” Nikki ignored him and swung at his legs. Spike jumped over the blades and stamped his foot down on one, pulling it from her grip. Nikki jumped back, reaching for the stake at her belt, as Spike drew his own sword, a cruel, curved cutlass. “Now, that's a bit more fair, wouldn't you say?”

“Die already, you monster!” Nikki didn't come at him, however, but readied herself for his attack.

Not that far away, Luke sidestepped a kick from the dark-skinned Slayer, but even though he'd managed to score hits on her – and she on him – neither had gained any serious advantage. The two combatants had dueled their away across the battlefield, weaving in and out of other fights, not being disturbed by the mortal death-matches around them, as the occasional jet of flame struck out at vampires, or landed on the ground.

“You fight well, Slayer. But the Red Moon is in the sky. Prophecy dictates that I will succeed. Surrender now, and I will make your death painless. Perhaps I will even reward your skill, by granting you eternity as my newest daughter.”

“I would sooner stake myself than accept such an offer.” Kendra shot back.

Back at the other battle – Spike didn't move at Nikki either, as the two enemies started to circle around each other. Nikki flung her stake at him, hoping to catch his heart, or at least hit him; but Spike dashed it to the side with his sword, sending the wood flying off into the ground. “Try harder.” He replied, smirking.

Nikki didn't bother to reply, continuing to circle, looking for an opening, any sort of opportunity. Her best chance was to drive for his stomach, since it wasn't covered by the coat...but it would open her right to an attack....

“You're wondering what it's like...what it would have felt like to die that night.” Spike said with a smirk. “Surrounded by all those dead bodies – covered by them – you remember what it felt like...and now you're wondering what if you'd joined them.” Without any indicating moves, he rushed at her, sword hanging loosely at his side.

Nikki saw her chance, stabbing the sword at his stomach –

The weapon went right into Spike's stomach, as planned...but then as Nikki raised the stake to finish him off, there was...she saw, and heard, more than felt it as the vampire's cutlass slashed right through her wrist...the dull thud, as her right hand landed on the ground.

She was too numbed to react, shock flowing through her, as the undead hand closed around her neck. “How...”

“You heard me...and you wondered if I was right.” Spike said, driving his teeth into her neck as he finished that last word. Once Nikki was drained, he let her limp body fall to the ground. “You shouldn't have listened.” he added, grunting as he pulled the Slayer's sword out of his stomach

A short distance away Kendra stood semi-crouched, a stake in both hands as Luke came at her once more. Letting her eyes drop to the ground for a moment, she smirked as he took the bait and grabbed her throat, tightening his grip.

“Can you feel that? The power of the Red Moon? Soon, the Master will rise! And with him, will come Hell, as it walks the earth on our march to glory!”

“A fight should be less talking-” She drove her stake into the reverse of Luke's elbow, then brought both hands onto his arm, snapping it with the force of her twisting. She staggered back and breathed deep for a moment. Then Kendra flung her other stake right into Luke's exposed heart, watching the vampire turn into a skeleton for a moment, before the bones exploded into dust.

“And more Slaying.”

So saying, Kendra flung herself back into the fray, killing every single vampire she came upon.

_Just outside Castle Maestro  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

The group of eight moved stealthily towards their target, each  member of the team knowing what to do and when to do it. Buffy and Faith looked a bit conflicted about not being on the battlefield alongside the rest of their sisterhood, but nonetheless they knew that theirs was the more important job; if they failed to kill both Luke and Darla, then the sacrifice of however many Slayers this night would be for nothing.

_If I know her, Darla will be holed up somewhere secure..._  Angel thought to himself as they were about to leave the tree cover.  _Hopefully Like will still be as much of an egotistical idiot as I remember him to be, personally leading his minions into battle, and the Daughters will destroy him for us; but Darla will be too smart for that. I'll have to slay her myself..._

“Concentrate on the here and now.” Xander's voice said sharply, bringing Angel back to the present. “We need you to be focused, remember?”

“Yes, I...” Angel abruptly cut himself off as he heard and smelled something nearby, and darted to the side. There was a muffled yelp, before Angel came back dragging Cordelia before the group.

“What are you doing here?” Buffy demanded furiously, recognizing the young noblewoman. “You fool, you could have gotten us all spotted and killed!”

Cordelia sniffed, “As if I didn't know how to remain safely under cover? Besides, these are my lands. The Lordship passes to me, with the death of my father and the incapacitation of my mother. If anyone has any right to be here, it's me; and  ** _not_**  any of you!”

Faith somehow restrained the urge to rip Cordelia's head off. “Are you insane, coming here? And you still haven't answered Buffy's first question.  ** _Why_**  are you here?”

“To help destroy that evil vampire your ancestors imprisoned so long ago, of course.” Cordelia said snidely. “This is my world as much as it is yours, after all. And I am hardly insane, Slayer! If this was a month ago, I'd have had you flogged for daring to say that!”

“We don't have time for this.” Lilah said, looking irritated at Wesley.

“For once, I must agree. Lady Chase, you must depart at once.” Wes nodded.

“Well, I'm not going anywhere!” Cordelia shot back. “Besides, I have my own reasons for coming. After we succeed, when I appear before the Baron, it will be as the victorious Lady Chase; not a penniless beggar appealing for help.”

“And if we fail?” Fred asked with a small grin.

“Well, then, it probably won't matter if she's here with us; or elsewhere.” Gunn grinned back at his wife.

Angel looked at Xander. “You'd best get her out of here-”

“And leave the rest of you to face killing those vampires without me? We're already short-handed enough!” Xander pointed out, and Angel reluctantly had to acknowledge the point.

“All right, fine, you can come with us. Xander, you keep an eye on her ladyship; and if she becomes a hindrance rather than a help... kill her.” Buffy ordered coldly.

Cordelia's eyebrows rose nearly to her forehead, and she opened her mouth to furiously shriek at the commoner for daring to say that; but luckily, Xander clapped a hand over the noblewoman's mouth. “Maybe I ought to just kill Cordelia now, and save us the time and worry?”

Lady Chase immediately glared at her former minion for that, and as Xander removed his hand she said snootily, “Not if I kill you first, Xander. And I refuse to let you be my bodyguard any longer; the handsome knight over there is the one I choose as my personal protector!”

Xander smirked. “I'm not going to get any better opening than that! Show her, Angel.”

Lady Cordelia's eyes went as wide as saucers as her intended future husband's face  ** _changed_** , becoming that of a monster. A vampire. She opened her mouth to scream in fear; and yet Xander's hand immediately clamped down before she could make a sound.

The noblewoman immediately shrank away from the...thing into Xander's arms. Removing his hand from her mouth Harris impatiently whirled her around, and forced Cordelia to look directly into his eyes. She found herself oddly captivated by his blazing, brown orbs...

“Yes, he's a vampire. Yes, everyone knew except you. Yes, he really is on our side. And no, he's not going to kill you; well, not unless you start screaming like a spoiled princess, instead of the woman who helped get me, your mother, and the surviving townsfolk to the Agaden Temple over a week ago.” Xander's voice became lower-pitched, and Cordelia suddenly felt mesmerized. “Tell me something, Cordelia. Did you truly mean it when you said you wanted to take part in this fight, for all the right reasons?”

“I...yes.” The brunette said, unable to look away. “Yes, Xander, I meant it!”

“Good. Then let's get moving...my Lady.” Xander said with the ghost of a small lopsided grin, one that made Cordelia's stomach flutter madly for some reason she couldn't understand.

The Slayers leading the way, the group of nine then headed for the enemy's stronghold...and the fight of their lives...

**Next Time, on the Last Installment of The Red Moon Rises:**   _Luke may be dead, but if the raising of the Master is to be stopped, Darla must soon join him. Can Wesley, Fred, Gunn, Lilah, Cordelia and Xander, joined by Faith, Buffy and Angel, find her in time to prevent the apocalypse?_


	21. The Battle of the Red Moon, Part II

**Disclaimer:**  No, I don't own it.

**A/N:**  I will not deny that this chapter is more than a bit...rushed, in the end – in that I skipped over some stuff that I normally wouldn't skip over. But this chapter has been sitting her on my hard-drive for a while now, and I need to finish this up, so I just did what was necessary to finish up Book I of the story. I'm sorry, but I figured you'd want the chapter after the what, month, since the last one has been up?

Thanks to Starway Man, my Beta

The Prophecies Cycle

Book I: The Red Moon Rises

By Alkeni

Chapter 21: The Battle of the Red Moon, Part II

**The Night of the Red Moon**

_The Front Gates of Castle Maestro  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

“So, what exactly is the plan here?” Xander asked as they approached the castle gates. If the structure had once had side doors of any kind, they were long since rendered useless, walled up and inaccessible. Which left the only usable means of entrance the front gates. “I mean, since we're taking the obvious way in - that they're sure to have guarded.”

“I wish we didn't have to have a plan, just for once.” Gunn muttered, not really serious. “I mean, really, what do we gotta do? Go in, stick together, kill the vampires, save the world. Easy.” He unleashed a mock suffering-sigh. “Just once, I'd like to be able to just ditch having a plan.”

Wesley chuckled, just a little. But then he nodded in agreement with Xander. “I suppose some kind of stealthy approach would be appropriate. Buffy,” His mouth ticked up at her ridiculous name, “and Faith had best go in first, take out any undead guards and-”

“Actually, I have a better idea.” Angel interrupted. “How about we don't go in through the front door at all?”

“Well, I'd love to, Angelus.” Wesley drawled. “But I don't see any other options for entrance. Do you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. And it's Angel nowadays, Watcher.” Angel sent the Britillian a look of annoyance as he corrected Wes on the name he now used.

Without any further explanation, he leapt into the air, grabbing with both hands onto the edge of a windowsill, only a curtain between him and entrance to the castle. It took some doing, but the vampire managed to pull himself inside, tearing the curtain away and tossing down one end of a rope. Buffy grabbed onto the rope with one hand, and then smirked at Wesley. Between Angel's pulling and her climbing, she was inside quickly. Back down went the rope.

“Well, you have to give credit where it's due. And Angel knows how to pull stuff like this off with style.” Faith said, smiling, and grabbing onto the rope. She turned back to face Wesley, who raised an eyebrow at her.

“I take it you three have done this sort of thing before.”

“We get around on the Slaying circuit.” Faith agreed, before starting to climb up.

To the rear, Lady Cordelia Chase unconsciously moved closer to Xander, awaiting her turn to enter the vampire-infested castle. And it wasn't because she was having second thoughts about this...no, of course not. This was something that had to be done, if for no other reason to save the world and her own life from a monster who would otherwise be unleashed tonight and cause the end of human civilization. And she wasn't moving closer to Harris - in a sense, the last remaining House Chase guard - because of the fact she'd discovered Angel was some sort of...friendly vampire, as insane as that sounded, and she intended to keep at least one human body between him and herself just in case.

No, it was because for a few moments just now in the forest...Xander had somehow managed to make her forget that he was a lowly ex-guard, and that she was a Lady of noble blood. Just for those few moments...it was as if he was just a man, and she was just a woman, and for the first time in her life - she had actually seen Harris for who he was, and not just what he was. Or at least, had been. It was rather hard to tell now what he was, since the collapse of the Lordship...

No, actually, that wasn't true. Cordelia knew what her former bodyguard was - a man determined to kill the vampire that was his former best friend, that unclean  ** _thing_**  that had wanted to rape and turn her when the castle had been invaded.

_I pray to any benevolent gods that may be listening, please don't let us run into that Jesse vampire tonight,_  Cordelia thought to herself, as Xander glanced her way for a moment.  _And that Xander and I survive the upcoming battle..._

“Are you having second thoughts about this, Cordelia?” he asked. “If so, this is your last opportunity to-”

“No. I said I would see this through, and I will do so. Do you dare doubt my word?” Lady Chase sent him her fiercest glare. One that, much to her annoyance, didn't seem to affect Harris in the slightest.

“No. My Lady.” Xander said with small smirk that she suddenly found truly detestable. “Would you care to go first?”

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Why do you think? For the pleasure of standing underneath and watching your rear as you climb up that rope, of course.”

“Oooh!” Cordelia seethed angrily, infuriated that this...this  ** _commoner_**  actually had the nerve to talk to her like that. It also angered her that she couldn't simply slap him like he deserved, and then stalk off in righteous anger.

Having witnessed the verbal exchange, Fred whispered to her husband, “Is it just me, or are those two acting like a married couple all of a sudden?”

“Naw, it's not just you, Fred. Come on, it's your turn.” Gunn nudged his better half, as Wesley and Lilah had already climbed up and into the castle by this point. Fred quickly got moving, before it was Charles's turn to use the rope to enter the vampire stronghold. Once he was inside, Cordelia - still glaring daggers at Xander for his perceived lack of respect - gritted her teeth, grabbed hold of the rope and started to climb.

_May all the pestilent gods damn you,_ Harris, Cordelia thought to herself, trying not to imagine the perverted expression on Xander's face right now. Even though, had she looked, there was not the slightest trace of lecherous amusement on the ex-guard's face; as he was too busy thinking of what he would have to do in regards to Jesse, should they run into the vampire this night.

Not far away, the man named Julian Parthenos...who had recently witnessed the death of his so-called employer, Luke...congratulated himself on a job well done. And, content that his record of everyone that dared to hire him ended up dead was still intact, the mercenary slipped off into the darkness...

_Castle Maestro Dungeons  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

Darla turned around as Drusilla erupted into a loud exclamation of happiness. “Daddy's here! Daddy's here!” She clapped like a little girl at the theater, but then she started to hiss angrily. “No, no, no!” She whined. “It's the Angel-beast!” Then she smiled. “But he's brought friends! I must tell Miss Edith. It's time to have a tea party!” She raced out of the room, looking for that detestable doll of hers.

_And Spike loves her? Great Amarra, how he puts up with her insanity I'll never know._ Darla grabbed one of the minion vampires in the room. Jesiah, or whatever his name was. “Take a team to the front door, and find Angelus and whoever he's brought with him. Kill all his companions, but bring Angelus to me, intact. Harm him if you must, but if he's slain - I'll personally make you wish the Slayers had ended you!”

“Yes-Yes milady!” Vamp Jesse hurried out of the room to find other vampires he could draft into this effort. Darla paid him no more mind. Instead, she turned to another minion. “We must start the ritual. It's time to begin the bloodletting. Bring the human sacrifices to the appropriate area - now.”

“Your will is my command, Darla.” The vampire said, bowing his head. “Your action will ensure the rise of the Master-”

“Why else am I here, or any of us for that matter, you fool? Now stop wasting my time with flattery, and do as I say!” Darla snarled angrily.

_Castle Maestro  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

“So, Lilah.” Wesley said, once they were up inside the castle, Gunn, Cordelia and Xander still on the ground as Angel pulled Fred up. “You said you had valuable information about all this, way back when you first joined up with us. You've refused to tell us anything before now, but given that we're up against the wall, as it were, it's time for you to start talking.” He leveled his crossbow at her stomach. “Or else this will get very nasty for you, very quickly.”

“You don't need to threaten it out of me.” Lilah said. “After all, lover, I'm on your side in all this. I happen to like this world as it is. Kind of human after all, no?”

“I have my doubts about that.” Wesley replied cooly. “And we are  ** _not_**  lovers. Now talk!”

Lilah rolled her eyes and gently pushed the crossbow so it wasn't pointing directly at her. “Remember the relevant Prophecy of the Dark Oracle that set us on this path? The reason Rupert Giles originally sent you here in the first place?”

“Of course.” Wesley replied. 

“Remind me, how does it go again?”

Wes started quoting: “When the moon hangs red in the sky/And the birds that once dwelled in the air no longer fly/He who was sealed away so long, shall once more awaken./And his fractured followers, no longer shall be they be fallen/First they shall make the blood of Sineya's Brood flow like wine/And thus the Brood of Aurelius shall cleanse the Earth of the kine.” He finished the recitation. “But what does that have to do with your information?”

“Just this: The Dark Oracle, in the seven of his twenty-three prophecies that have been fulfilled thus far, has never been wrong. Not once. Every prophecy of his has inevitably come to pass.”

“So what?” Faith demanded. “Are you saying we're already doomed? If so, it would have been useful to know that before now. Except, of course, that prophecy is bullshit. We're the ones who make the choices here, not some dead seer.”

Fred clambered into the room. “I have to agree. Screw Destiny has been an ongoing philosophy of mine.”

“Destiny is one thing. But prophecy is prophecy. It's not something you can just ignore.” Wesley disagreed. “But neither does prophecy set the future in stone.”

“Actually it does.” Lilah disagreed. “But the great thing about prophecy is that it's always so...vague. You never know what it's actually saying, until after the fact.”

“That prophecy seems pretty clear to me.” Angel replied. “The Master will rise, his followers will return, they'll kill all the Slayers and then cleanse the earth of humanity. He's not being all that vague.”

“Ah, but you heard dear Wesley recite the prophecy just now - and where does it say that the Master will cleanse the earth of humanity? It says his brood will cleanse the earth of the 'kine'. And as any scholar can tell you, 'kine'...it's simply an ancient word for 'cattle'. Some vampire religions use the word in relation to humans, and for obvious reasons, of course - but technically speaking, it doesn't  _necessarily_  mean human.”

“So, what, the Master is going to just kill all the cows in the world?” Angel asked scornfully. He could see now why the former Watcher had pointed a crossbow at this woman, and to his mind it was amazing how Wesley hadn't killed her yet.

Lilah rolled her eyes at the vampire. “Did I say that? Certainly, if we don't stop the ritual to free him, it's entirely possible that he will kill all the humans in this world as the fulfillment of the prophecy. But that's exactly what I'm trying to make you fools understand; words have  ** _meaning_**. Prophecies say what they say, and that's it. They're constructed statements of what will happen. When you get right down to it, all the Dark Oracle is saying is that when this, that and the other thing happen, this whole other thing will happen. The prophecy will be fulfilled, no matter how you slice it. Don't you see? The way to get around a prophecy, to prevent it from ending the way you don't want it to, is to end it prematurely! Fulfill its conditions your own way, and you've closed the door on its effectiveness, ending its influence on the world.  ** _That's_**  the only way you're going to prevent the end of the world and the rising of the Master. The Red Moon is in the sky, and there certainly aren't any damn birds in the sky. His splintered followers have gathered here. The Master is awake, ready for his release. So what's left?”

“The blood of Sineya's brood flowing like wine, and the brood of Aurelius cleansing the Earth of the kine.” Angel supplied. “But we're not exactly going to be able to kill every damn cow in the world.” As he said that, he finished pulling Cordelia into the castle, then rolled the rope and put it back into his pack.

“The blood of Sineya's brood is already flowing.” Lilah pointed out the window towards the battle raging in the open plain below the castle. “You can't deny that the Slayers haven't been injured, or that some of them are dead and dying.” She pulled a wooden goblet from her bag. “Now all you need to do is making their blood flow like wine. And as for cleansing the earth of the kine, once again, you're thinking far too literally. You don't have to be literal. 'The Earth' could mean, if you want to stretch it, just a patch of dirt. And since we're talking about kine, all it has to be is a single cow, or cow-like animal, like an ox. And how much do you want to bet they don't have a cow or an ox here, for blood?”

“That's a lot we're risking on an ox or cow being here.” Angel frowned.

“True, but at this point, it's all we have. Though I suppose we could also kill a person, but since I'm quite sure you'd all vote for killing me, I vote for cow, hm? The point is that if we want to prevent the Master's release, we have to defeat the prophecy.” Lilah said passionately.

“Well, then, we'll keep our eyes open for a cow.” Angel replied. “In the meantime, let's get moving.”

_Castle Maestro Front Gates  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

“There's been no sign of them. I'm telling you, they didn't come in through the main gates.”

“Well, how else did they come in!?” Jesse demanded. “Look, I'm not going back to Darla empty-handed! So either you tell me where the hell they are, or I'll bring her your dust!”

“You miserable little worm!” The vampire lunged at his nominal leader, weeks of subsistence feeding on animal blood getting to him. Wrapping his hands around Jesse's neck, he squeezed; for all the good that would do. “You just want all that human blood for yourself!” He punched his pinned target in the face.

“Oh, please, don't fight each other.” A voice from further inside the castle offered. All five vampires watching, and the two fighting turned to see Angel step out of the shadows, flanked by two woman, one blonde and one brunette. The ensouled vampire donned his game face with a snarl. “After all, that's my job.”

Six crossbow bolts flew out at the vampires from near Angel, Buffy and Faith. Gunn, Fred, Wesley, Lilah, Xander and Cordelia all watched as their bolts went for the vampires. To no one's surprise, Cordelia's bolt sailed aside harmlessly, missing the vampires entirely. Wesley's and Gunn's connected right in the heart, while Fred, Lilah and Xander failed to score direct hits, but achieved varying level of damage where they hit elsewhere, the undead's instinctive dodging preventing one-hit kills.

Just as the vampires started to react, the Slayers were on them, Buffy driving a stake into one of the uninjured ones, Faith swinging her sword through the already injured leg of another. Xander, sensibly staying back, just reloaded his crossbow. Cordelia tried to follow his lead, but fumbled with the weapon, dropping the bolt. Xander bit his tongue a moment, then picked up the bolt and handed it back to Cordelia.

“How the hell do I do it?” She demanded as the fight continued on, Angel having joined in, only three vampires left. In all the excitement, Cordelia had failed to notice that one of them was Jesse - who had spotted her by now, and couldn't believe his good fortune.

“Figure it out for yourself, Cordelia.” Xander replied cooly, stupidly letting himself be distracted and failing to spot Jesse heading towards them.

“Xander!” She looked at him. “Please! Help!?”

Xander pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. “Better.” He pointed to part of her crossbow. “You need to pull this part here back. Exactly, like that.” He added, as Cordelia did as instructed. It made sense to her after that, she managed to get the crossbow loaded without further instruction. “Right, now - oh, gods!!”

Xander looked up, too late, to see Vamp Jesse bearing down upon them. Even as he lifted his crossbow, Harris knew he was doomed. But then, Cordelia's weapon unleashed a loud 'twang!' - and with a look of disbelief on his face, the fledgling vampire exploded into dust.  
“I did it!” She looked at Xander oddly. “I did it?”

“That you did, my Lady. Well done.” Xander nodded his head respectfully at the noblewoman, and meaning it for maybe the first time in his life. He was somewhat regretful that he hadn't done the deed himself, laid Jesse to rest by his own hand, but then in a time of war - one must enjoy one's victories however one can.

Of course, by then, the fight was done.

“That's seven down. How many more do you think Darla's got between here and her?” Faith asked, looking around.

“No clue.” Wesley replied. “But I'm about to commit a cardinal sin in our line of work, and suggest that we split up. We have two, arguably three targets we need to find and eliminate: Darla, the Aurelian priests working on the ritual, and a cow or ox so as to defeat the prophecy. There's no good way to split us into three groups, but two should be able to work. Angel, you're going to have to be in charge of finding the cow.”

“What the - who died and put  _you_  in charge, Britillian?” Angel shot back. “Why should I be the one to find the damned cow? I don't even  _believe_  all that crap, anyway!”

“Because the prophecy says that the 'Brood of Aurelius' will be the one to cleanse the earth of the kine. The only one here that is of the line of Aurelius would be you, by way of Darla and the Master. So you have to be the one to find the cow, because you have to be the one to kill it. Find a cow, bring it to the courtyard and kill it over a patch of bare dirt.”

“This is insane! I'm not going to waste my time dealing with manipulating prophecy. Not while Darla's around!” Angel shot back stubbornly.

Buffy looked at the vampire as he spoke. A woman knows her man, and even if she and Angel had never been physically intimate, the blonde Slayer nonetheless knew that Angel was acting out of character right now. He was uncharacteristic in his aggressiveness, his belligerence. Darla was getting to him...he wanted her destroyed. This wasn't about anything else for him...

“Angel.” Buffy put a hand on his arm softly. “We don't have time to argue about this. Maybe the prophecy doesn't need to be manipulated that way, but do you  **really**  want to gamble the fate of the world on that? Because I don't. We find the cow, we kill it, and then we join up with them going after Darla and her minions. The priests themselves don't matter much, as long as Darla and Luke are gone. We can get rid of them later.”

“You know Darla, Angel. Where would she most likely be, all things considered?” Wesley inquired. Then, as if suddenly having the idea, he added: “Tell you what. I swear I will do my level best to ensure that Darla is intact and 'alive' as it were, by the time that you get there. Thus, if it is at all possible, you can be the one to end her.”

“It won't be as easy you think to simply hold her off, without her killing you.” Angel retorted.

“No, probably not.” Wesley agreed. “But the promise has to count for something, at least. And do you really I care whether or not I live to see the coming dawn?”

“Not really.” Angel muttered, then added, “All right. Since Darla will have guessed we're coming, she'll know this is gonna be a fight to the death, so she'll want the most defensible place possible. In this case, that'll be somewhere down in the castle's dungeons. The far end of them, too. You're going to need to run a gauntlet of her minions to get to her.”

“Who said anything about running through them?” Gunn, having only moments before exchanged the crossbow for his axe, asked, swinging the weapon around a bit to add a menacing flourish to his words. “I vote we just dust 'em all along the way. Unless they come at us fifty at a time or something like that, we can take 'em.”

“It would probably be best to at least try getting rid of all the vampires in our way.” Fred agreed. “The last thing we want is to be dealing with Darla and her personal guard, while also trying to hold off however many vampires we didn't kill coming at from the rear.”  
“Just as long as we don't delay too long.” Wesley looked at her and then Lilah, who nodded. “Time is not on our side, remember? Darla is and must be our priority.”

“Fine. Alright.” Buffy said, taking charge. She nodded to Faith. “You go with them. Since this was your idea, Lilah, you'll be coming with Angel and me.”

After a moment, Faith nodded. She knew that Buffy's logic was right. They'd need a Slayer for the team that was moving into the dungeons, and Buffy had to stay behind and keep Angel in line. She was the only one who could do it.  _Just like he's the only one who can keep her in line. They're good for each other like that, I suppose. Too bad it can't ever be anything more than that._

Lilah didn't bother to suppress her distaste at going with the Slayer and the ensouled vampire. Not so much because she preferred going with the others into the dungeons – dangerous work, that, and Lilah quite liked being among the living, thank you – but because the only thing worse than a self-righteous Slayer...and they we all self-righteous, at the end of the day.  _Daughters of Sineya, indeed. A goddess isn't your mommy, little girl..._ was a self-righteous ensouled vampire on a redemption kick. It was hardly an exact science to come to that conclusion, but still.

Lilah walked over to the slayer and the vampire. “All right, let's find us a cow.”

“And where would you suggest we go about finding one?” Angel asked, looking to the side. Somehow, the look managed to achieve the visual effect of rolling one's eyes, without actually making such an action.

“Oh, I don't know.” Lilah said. Then she stroked her chin, saying musingly, “I suppose – and this is just a shot in the dark, here – we might want to check the castle's stables, first? Just a thought.”

_Castle Maestro Dungeon  
Lordship of Sunnydale_

Not all that long afterwards, after fighting their way past the undead and the Slayer army-slash-vampire army battle outside was more or less over, the strike team (despite all the odds) managed to make down to the dungeons to confront their primary target.

“You're too late.” Darla said to them softly, a bemused look on her face as she wiped blood from her lips with the back of her hand. “The sun is almost risen, the ritual almost complete. The Master's rising is unavoidable now!”

“You've not succeeded yet. You haven't given him enough blood, Darla.” Wesley shot back, unable to get a clear shot with his crossbow - what with the minions in the way.

“I've given enough, in conjunction with what Luke will have fed on by now.”

“You're giving your boyfriend far too much credit.” Faith replied, twirling her sword in a now familiar gesture. 

“You insult me more than you know with that accusation. And you're disgustingly self-confident for food.” Darla lunged at her, moving fast enough to pin Faith to the wall, hand on her neck, the other hand twisting the dark-haired Slayer's weapon free of her grasp. Straightaway, the minions became expendable – and both Wesley and Gunn terminated them with extreme prejudice.

Darla ignored the end of her undead servants. They had already fulfilled their purpose anyway. She said to Faith, “I wonder – how do you taste? Angelus and Spike always swore that Slayer blood is something of an aphrodisiac. Is that true?”

“I don't know.” Faith choked out. “I've never tasted my own blood.” The click of four crossbows, all aimed at Darla, brought a smirk to Faith's face.

“None of you could kill me before I broke her neck.” Darla said contemptuously.

“True.” Wesley said, sticking his sword in her back. “But your death means the end of the prophecy's influence in this world, and I'm sure that Angelus –I'm sorry, Angel – has fulfilled his part by now. What with the cow and all.”

“Cow?” Darla demanded the least bit uncertainly.

“The Brood of Aurelius shall cleanse the Earth of the kine. The word translates to 'cattle', not human, despite your undead prejudices. Didn't you know even that much?” Fred asked tauntingly. Darla immediately glared at her for it, as the certainty that she had succeeded in freeing the Master began to slip away, like quicksilver through her fingers.

“I could kill you before you could give me anything more than a flesh wound.” Darla told Fred menacingly

“Over my dead body, leech!” Gunn shouted.

Darla immediately let go of Faith, spinning around before anyone could react. Four crossbow bolts flew at the female vampire, but three missed, and the fourth was knocked out of its path when Darla swung her hand up to to do precisely that. Less than three seconds later, Wesley went flying into the wall. It didn't take Darla long to snatch up Faith's sword and charge at the others. Faith herself scrambled to her feet and ran for Darla.

But she kicked out at undead speed, removing the Slayer's legs from out under her, leaving her sprawled out on the floor again. Gunn once more brought his axe to bear, trying to get inside Darla's guard with a underhand swing. 

Unfortunately the blonde vampiress was unfazed and sliced her weapon right through the weapon's wooden handle, less than an inch away from Gunn's hand, effectively disarming him. Then it was Fred's turn. The inventor-cum-demon hunter released her collapsible sword, managing to block Darla's sword strike, but staggering back under the sheer force of the attack. Sparks flew from Fred's sword as Darla's connected with it. Gunn threw the separated head of his axe at Darla as hard as he could.

The vampiress just jumped nearly six feet into the air, letting the weapon sail right underneath her feet – so it spun on its way and embedded itself in Wesley's leg, inducing an scream of blinding pain from the former Watcher. The force of the blow wasn't enough to sever his leg, or cut the bone, but it was enough to fracture his leg's bones.

Fred kept stepping back as Darla resumed the attack against her, biting her lip until it bled, bile rising within her throat, her stomach tightening. Xander tried to come at Darla to kill her, but her undead speed allowed her to easily fend off both attackers. Still, it kept the evil blonde busy as Faith tried to think of an option other than unarmed combat.

_I need a weapon. I need a fucking weapon._  She looked around . There was nothing she could use. Nothing, except – the axehead in Wesley's leg. She pulled it out, wincing at Wesley's latest scream as blood started to pour from the wound. Cordelia, darting around the edge of the battle, ran up to the former Watcher, tearing his bloodstained pants leg, tying a makeshift tourniquet around his leg, tight enough to yield more noises of pain. 

_Reading those books has paid off on something for once._ Cordelia paid the blood staining her hands and her clothes no mind at all. And if Harris had had time to look in her direction, doubtless he'd have been stunned to see the daughter of his former employer acting like this. Or, maybe not; they had been through a lot together recently...

Darla, even as all this happened, as a newly armed Faith came towards her, was still holding off Xander and Fred. Fred, no expert swordswoman, was barely holding her own, trying to get away as an unarmed Gunn was trying to detach Wesley's sword from its wrist-device. 

Swinging her weapon again to block one of Darla's attacks, Fred found the weapon hitting empty air as Darla reversed the blade's path and sliced into the wrist of Fred's empty hand. Xander could do nothing to prevent it, his sword strike deflected by Darla half a second later with effortless ease.

Fred didn't even get a chance to scream as her hand fell to the floor – even as Faith swung the axehead into and through Darla's neck, dust and dismemberment joined on the floor.

**Coming Eventually to a Computer Near You: The Prophecies Cycle Book II: The Blinded Eye:**   _The rising of the Master has been prevented, but at terrible cost in blood, and even more in spirit and soul. But, battered and wounded, facing a new dawn, our protagonists see no rest, as vengeance, duty and desperation see them acting on a new, grander stage than ever before. As the winds of prophecy sweep across the world, dangers, friends and foes sit in every tavern, and stand behind every door._


End file.
